Purus Plurimus
by onlyonechairleft
Summary: A stranger to Hogwarts brings some interesting changes. Being a Pureblood matters, suddenly. Even in Gryffindor.
1. Arrival

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I'm honest, I'm not sure I'd even want the responsibility.

It was the first Monday of November in Ron Weasley's sixth year at Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry and he was, as usual, sitting at breakfast with his two best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Hermione was nattering on about homework and exams and study timetables but Ron was doing his best to ignore her, making faces across the table at his little sister instead, but only when he was sure Hermione wasn't looking.

Ginny had turned bright red in an effort to hold in her laughter and Neville, sitting next to her, was almost choking. Hermione shot them an annoyed glare, and Ron pasted an innocent look on his face, only serving to make the situation worse. Which was, of course, his intention. Harry, on the other side of Hermione, was clueless too and Ginny caught the brief hurt cross his face at the mere thought of being left out. He really had to get over that, she thought. The world did not exist merely to revolve around him- wasn't Ron entitled to do something that didn't involve the Boy-Who-Lived? Her brief annoyance at Harry dissipated though, as Ron made a particularly rude gesture in her direction and she couldn't hold it any longer- gasping, she burst into a booming laugh, dragging Neville with her as she fell backwards off the bench. Ron burst into laughter then, too, narrowly avoiding his sister's fate and catching himself just before he fell. A few moments of hysterical laughter later and one huff of disinterest from Hermione, Ginny finally clambered up, fixing her robes and offering Neville her hand. Laughing, he stood up too and blushed as red as any Weasley when he realised that half of the school was watching him- including many of the teachers. It may have been his embarrassment, or his imagination, but was Professor Snape smiling? Spooky. Neville sat down, carefully avoiding eye contact with Ron and Ginny in case they would set him off again- his chest hurt from laughing and he had a stitch in his side. That's what hanging around with Weasley's gets you, he reflected, remembering his grandmother's warning from his first year. Mrs. Longbottom may hold a soft spot for the Weasley clan, but that didn't mean she wasn't well aware of what they were actually _like._ Ron was chuckling under his breath, barely containing his own laughter- not made any easier by Ginny's attempts to kick him under the table. He was set off again when one, particularly nasty, kick missed him and hit the table leg.

"Bollocks! Ow, ow, bloody ow!" It wasn't too long before Neville, and even Ginny, joined in again- earning more disapproving stares from Hermione. Sometimes, she was really far too grown-up for her own good.

It was into this air of jollity- the Weasley laughter having lightened the mood of all the houses, not just Gryffindor- that a stranger entered, picking a careful path through the house tables and the milling students toward the staff table. The man was tall, wearing dark robes and holding his head high. He was pale, with deep brown hair falling to his shoulders, and a slightly sneering expression.

All eyes followed him, curious, and Ron wasn't the only one who noticed that the headmaster and several of the teachers paled considerably. Dumbledore stood, moving to the front of the dais where McGonagall joined him, and their guest. They conversed in low tones and silence fell over the students as they tried, in vain, to hear what was being said. Dumbledore frowned several times and McGonagall looked… well, the best word Ginny could think of was _sad_. She met her brother's gaze briefly, raising an eyebrow in question, but he could only shake his head. He hadn't got a clue either.

For several minutes, the school was engrossed with the arrival of a stranger, but inevitably, attention waned and speculative whispers began making the rounds. And then Dumbledore led the new arrival away and even the speculation ceased. Quidditch and gossip were far more interesting than a stranger at breakfast. At least until someone had a clue as to who the stranger was.

The rest of the day passed by, uneventful. Neville, surprisingly good at potions without professor Snape looming over him, managed a O on his homework and had shown it to everyone in Gryffindor house before dinner. Hermione re-commenced her badgering about studying but both Harry and Ron ignored her this time, concentrating instead on a serious game of chess. Well, as serious as a game of chess can be when the result is a foregone conclusion. The Trio walked to the great hall with Neville, Ginny and Luna (who appeared outside the Gryffindor common room as they left) for dinner. Harry fell into step with Hermione, and Ginny with Neville. Ron, for once perhaps showing more maturity than anyone knew he had, walked with Luna, telling jokes and listening to her talk excitedly about the latest edition of the Quibbler- it had an exclusive interview with a witch who claimed she was possessed by her teapot, apparently.

Luna drifted off to the Ravenclaw table where, Ron noticed, she sat alone at the end of the table reading a book she'd pulled out from inside her robes somewhere. He couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for her, then. However annoying his own friends could be, at least they were there. At least they _existed_.

The Gryffindors sat in their usual spots in the middle of the table, and Ron tuned into Harry and Hermione's conversation. Surprisingly, they were talking about homework. At least, Hermione was talking about homework and Harry was trying to get her to at least _pretend_ to relax. Rolling his eyes, Ron reached for the jug of Pumpkin juice, pouring a goblet for himself before gesturing with the jug in Ginny's direction. Sitting opposite him, she pushed her goblet in his direction and grinned. Sometimes, having a big brother who had been well trained by their mother was an asset. At least with this particular brother, she wouldn't have to worry that the juice would turn her purple. Ron poured for Neville too, choosing to leave Hermione and Harry to their own devices as he tuned out of their conversation.

He couldn't help but be grateful that it was Harry on the receiving end this time- he got more than enough of that from his mother, he didn't need to listen to it from his best friends too. Even if Hermione _does_ look gorgeous when she's giving out, he thought. Internally, Ron groaned. Hermione, being a sensible girl, wouldn't look at him twice, so he really needed to _stop_ thinking about her as anything more than his friend.

Dinner passed in a haze of laughter and stories- Dean was trying his best to explain football to Ginny, and by extension Ron and Neville, and didn't seem to be getting very far. Ron wondered if it was mean to not just tell Dean that he understood the game well enough after sharing a room with the other boy for five years. Neville, catching Ron's eye, grinned. He'd obviously had the same thought, but found it far to amusing to see Dean struggle to offer him any help. Harry had fallen silent, and Hermione appeared to be sulking a little. Ron was sure he'd hear both sides of the story several times before bed.

"So let me get this straight" Ginny's voice held just the tiniest tinge of amusement, but Ron didn't think Dean had caught it. "You have two teams of eleven, right? And the game goes on for ninety minutes, and there might not be a score?" Dean nodded, pleased that she understood. "What a pile of bollocks! Where's the fun in that?!" She looked outraged, but her voice carried laughter with it. Dean tried, admirably, to redeem his favourite game in her eyes, but Ginny was having none of it. For several minutes, she cut off every sentence with a cutting remark or an eye-roll. All the time though, she was very careful to not be _too_ harsh, Ron noticed. She must really like him, he realised, if she's going this easy on him. As engrossed as he was in their exchange, he didn't notice at first when Dumbledore stood to speak. The Headmaster cleared his throat loudly and the hall fell silent, all eyes turning to him. Even the Slytherin table was quiet. After dinner speeches were unusual enough to gain everyone's full attention.

"Thank you everyone. As I'm sure you all noticed, an unexpected but nonetheless welcome guest arrived this morning. Our visitor is none other than Mr. Lethe Basingstoke of the International Federation of Wizards. The Federation, as I am sure you know, have always held an advisory position to Hogwart's and Mr. Basingstoke is here in that capacity. He has asked for a few moments of your time this evening, and I hope that you will treat him with the respect you show to me and to your professors. Thank you." Dumbledore was barely seated when the man from that morning- Mr. Basingstoke- moved from his place in the shadows to the side of the Head's table and smiled.

"Thank you, Headmaster. Good evening everyone. I will not hold you long, I promise." He smiled again, showing teeth- perfect and white- this time. "All I ask is that, in accordance with the Concord of 1514, which grants the IWF a special role within this school, the _Alumno Purus Plurimus_ representative of each house please stand up." Before his eyes, a little less than half of the students frowned, and looked at each other. At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy grinned and stood up.

"Draconis Orion Black-Malfoy representing Slytherin, sir." Around him, the Slytherins grinned, wolf-like.

The Hufflepuff table had descended into quiet conversation, with glances shooting across the table from person to person until eventually, a fifth year girl stood.

"Ursula Marianne Bones-Cadwallader representing Hufflepuff, sir." Her voice shook just a little and around her, her fellow Hufflepuffs were split between those who looked apprehensive and those who looked confused.

The Ravenclaw table were in the midst of a heated debate when all eyes turned to them. After a few moments of argument and several drawn wands, Simon Fawcett, a tall dark-haired seventh year, stood up.

"Simon Marcus Manderlay-Fawcett, representing Ravenclaw, sir." His voice was more sure than Ursula's, but he caught was sent several nasty glares from his housemates. To his credit, he met each gaze steadily until the offending parties looked away. Only Luna, of all the Ravenclaws, wasn't paying any attention at all. The rest were, similarly to the Hufflepuffs, split between confusion and curiosity.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron and Ginny Weasley paled considerably. Ginny chanted "Oh sweet Merlin" under her breath until her brother kicked her under the table. About half of Gryffindor house was watching them- her, Ron and Neville, she noticed, and she blushed suddenly.

"Ron- we can't do this! Mum'll kill us! Dad'll kill us- we'll have to go live with Percy we'll be so disowned." She ignored Hermione, Harry and Dean's questions.

"What's going on?"

"What does that mean?"

"What in Merlin's name is happening?"

Neville, beside her, was almost shaking.

Glancing at Neville, Ron gulped.

"Well Gin, it's one of us or Neville and he looks like he's about to faint. You alright, mate?" Neville made a small choking sound before he spoke,

"I'm okay, I suppose. I just never thought… I'll do it, if you want. I don't think it's my place, but if your parents will be that mad, then I will…" He looked like nothing in the world interested him less, but his resolve was clear beneath the fear.

"Nah, mate. That's okay. We'll take care of it." Neville visibly relaxed, tension leaving his shoulders, even as the Weasley siblings stiffened. Ron was faintly aware of Malfoy declaring for Slytherin and he met his sister's gaze.

"You'll have to renounce, okay? We're too close otherwise." She gulped, and nodded. Hufflepuff declared, two tables over.

"Are you sure Ron? There must be somebody else who can…?" She left the question hanging, just as Ravenclaw declared.

Harry, who hadn't been listening to his friends but who'd been watching the rest of the Gryffindors instead, sighed. They were all looking at him, as usual.

"I'll do it, whatever it is." He made to stand up when, beside him, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil pulled him down, Lavender digging her sharp nails into his arm.

"Don't move Potter" Lavender hissed "Whatever you do, do not stand up and do not speak!" Harry looked shocked and made a move again.

"Somebody has to stand and I don't see anyone else volunteer, do you?" He sounded disdainful, and couldn't have been more surprised when Ron grabbed him from the other side- almost knocking Hermione to the floor in his effort.

"Harry mate, this is really not the time to play the hero. This isn't your business, so stay in your seat." Harry opened his mouth to voice an angry retort when Ginny stood and said calmly,

"I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, do hereby cede my right of claim unto my elder brother." And she sat, almost collapsing into her seat. Neville held her up as she looked up to Ron and wished him luck silently.

"Ronald Bilius Prewett-Weasley, representing Gryffindor." The _sir_ was noticeable in its absence.

In front of the dais, Mr. Basingstoke smiled grimly and clasped his hands together in a gesture reminiscent of Dolores Umbridge.

"Excellent. I would ask that the four of you accompany me now as the representatives of your houses." And he strode toward the door, not looking back to see if the chosen few were following him. Ron grinned at his sister, more to reassure himself than her, and walked after him.


	2. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Welcome. I remain the non-owner of the HP universe, thanks for asking.

* * *

Dumbledore rose from his seat as the doors to the great hall slammed shut behind Mr. Basingstoke. All eyes turned to him, and a deathly silence fell over the assembled students. Only the Slytherins- and then, only some of the Slytherins- were smiling.

"I am sure that some of you understand the significance of what has happened here today but I ask that you all remain patient and remain seated for a few more moments. Today, an historic event has happened in this school." His tone was serious in a way that Dumbledore rarely was, but he was still smiling- and with a smile on his face and his pointy hat tilted at a ridiculous angle, Harry could finally see why Percy Weasley (amongst others) found it so easy to believe that the Headmaster had lost his marbles.

"For the first time since the signing of the concord more than four hundred years ago, the IWF have seen fit to send their representative to Hogwarts. In accordance with that agreement, the IWF have it within their rights to assume control of the school in times of great danger- it appears they believe that now is one of those times." A concerned murmur ran through the students, and he raised a hand to quiet them. "However, the IWF do not have the right to control the school and her students _directly_ and I will retain my position as Headmaster. The day-to-day running of the school will remain my responsibility as will control of the staff." He paused to glance around at the students, reassuring them that he would not be leaving. This would not be a repeat of the previous year, where Umbridge had ousted him from his position. Taking a breath, smile faltering for just a second, he continued.

"In accordance with our agreement, the IWF appoint to a special council: the _Alumno Purus Plurimus_ from each house. This is an ancient tradition, worked into the concord by magic's we cannot hope to understand now and which reverberates in _every_ stone of the castle walls. Hogwarts _will_ accept these new rules and I expect each and every one of you to accept them also. The council will take charge of the discipline of their students and the general order of each house. Each new head of house will appoint deputies in accordance with concord regulations and their word will be law within their own house. I believe that the students on this council will need your support and your trust in what is sure to be a challenging time for them. I do, however, ask that if you find yourself in the position that you feel you are being unfairly treated, you come directly to me in my office, or to one of your teachers." He smiled again, wider than ever, then. "I do not anticipate that there will be any trouble adjusting- but as with any changing of the guard, there may be some minor hiccoughs. Anyone with any further questions, please address them to a teacher after class tomorrow. For now, I wish you all goodnight."

At his words, the plates and dishes disappeared abruptly and the spell of silence was broken. Harry sighed bitterly.

"Well, that wasn't very informative now, was it?" Hermione, sitting next to him, glared at him with angry eyes.

"Don't you get it Harry? Don't you see what this means?" Dumbly, he shook his head. Seamus and Dean leaned in to hear what she had to say too.

"_Alumno Purus Plurimus_ means the 'most pure student'- the purebloods, Harry! This puts the purebloods in charge and leaves the rest of us under their control! It has got to be illegal- it's certainly unethical! How can Dumbledore allow this?" Her voice rang with outrage and just the tiniest hint of fear.

"Well, Dumbledore's a pureblood too, isn't he? Why would he bother trying? It's not like it's discriminating against him." Dean's normally cheerful face was sullen, and his tone held nothing but anger. He'd had more than enough discrimination in the Muggle world, he didn't need it here too.

"Dumbledore's not like that- there must be a good reason! And what's up with Ron anyway? Why was he named this Alumo Pura Plurima anyway?" Harry, who knew Dumbledore better than the rest of them, had noticed that the Headmaster did not seem happy, but no-one else seemed convinced. Maybe the crazy loon theories had spread further than he'd thought. His question wasn't answered either, until Seamus repeated the question to Lavender, tearing her away from her conversation with Parvati.

"It's a Pureblood thing- none of you would know because none of you were really wizard-raised. No offence Seamus." Crouching forward, Lavender spoke in a hushed tone, "It's because Ron can trace his family back, on both sides, further than the rest of the Gryffindors. Ginny too, obviously, which is why she had to cede her claim. Every pureblood child is taught this stuff from birth- rules and regulations around blood history. We really don't expect you to understand." Their stretch of the table fell into silence while arguments raged on all sides around them.

"What- you think we're too stupid to understand your special Pureblood rules?" Dean spat out, his face etched with pain as he struggled to understand what exactly was going on.

"It's not like that Dean! Of course I didn't mean that! What I mean is that I've been learning about this from the day I was born- and my family aren't nearly as Pure as the Weasley's, or the Malfoys. My grandmother is a Muggle, for Merlin's sake!" She sounded hurt, and offended. "You don't expect me to understand everything about the Muggle world, do you? Why would I expect you to know everything about how I was raised?" Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and Dean quietly muttered an apology. Seamus, resting his head on the tabletop, cursed suddenly and smacked the table with the palm of his hand. The sound echoed around the mostly quiet hall.

"Dammit, this is ridiculous. Surely it's a violation of human rights or something- there must be something we can do, someone we can talk to, to get this sorted out. What kind of a country is it that still abides by rules written four hundred years ago?" Almost in unison they turned to Hermione, looking for an answer.

"I don't know Seamus. I don't really understand. I know that the IWF- or the Union of Wizarding Nations as they started out- was founded to prevent the extermination of wizards by Muggles. We may have magic, but in the fifteenth century, Muggles had the means and the numbers to kill off all the wizards if they'd wanted to. They have it now, too, except that the Wizarding world is very well hidden." She looked a little ill as she spoke- very pale and very tired. "And Dumbledore said that the Concord was created with magic we don't understand now so there may be no way to counteract it reliably without risking dreadful damage to the castle. And if Hogwarts, the castle herself, accepts the rules then we have no choice but to accept them too. It's that, or leave, and go home." She sounded truly miserable at the thought.

"Bugger." Seamus was speaking for them all when he said that. Around them, the rest of the Gryffindors were beginning to stand, grouping together and leaving the Great Hall quickly. The hall itself was emptying as fast as it ever had- students eager to get back to their dormitories and discuss the matter as a House. The Head Boy and Girl (A Ravenclaw named Martin and a Slytherin called Leesh) were talking to the Headmaster, apparently discussing their future roles. Hermione noticed that both of them seemed upset as she walked past, but she ignored them in favour of moving faster toward Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"What would have happened to Harry if he'd stood up and declared himself?" Hermione asked later, staring into Lavenders eyes in what could have been considered a threatening manner if it wasn't for the concern in her voice. But it wasn't Lavender who answered.

Instead, it was Neville, who had been quietly conversing with Ginny, that spoke up. Ginny herself hadn't spoken to anyone else since Ron had left the great hall, and no-one had really tried speaking to her. (After all, Ginny Weasley's temper was as well known as her brother's and most of the school was at least a little wary of approaching her on a good day. This was not a good day.) His voice was tired, he sounded almost guilty.

"Ron, and Ginny I suppose, would have been able to demand his expulsion from the Wizarding world for claiming something that was not rightfully his. Worse than that though, anyone else could demand it on their behalf, to uphold the integrity of the Concord." Lavender nodded sagely,

"And it would have been granted too- you owe us a thank you, Potter. We just saved you from life as a Muggle."

"Oh, because life as a second class citizen in a school ruled by Malfoy and his goons is going to be so much better?" Parvati asked, scornfully.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean, Patil? Are you equating my brother with Draco Malfoy?" Parvati had obviously forgotten that Ginny was still there because she blushed and ducked her head.

"I didn't mean it like that Ginny- of course not! I just meant that Malfoy is going to be insufferable now- all the Slytherins will be. You know they've been waiting for this since the day You-Know-Who returned. The IWF threatened Hogwarts with this during the last war. That's the only reason any of _us_ even know about any of _this_." She crossed her arms then, and raised her eyes to meet Ginny's, defiance written across her face.

"Parvati's right Gin. When this happened last time, nobody knew that this agreement even existed. The fact that we know now… well, I think it means that someone was expecting this to happen eventually- maybe even Dumbledore himself." Neville was nodding, agreeing with Lavender, even as Harry and Hermione shared twin expressions of outrage.

"They were expecting this? Dumbledore? The Order?! What next, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?" Ignoring the confusion and the mutterings of "What Order?" Harry spun away from his friends, pacing out into the middle of Gryffindor common room. "How long have they been telling us that Hogwarts is the safest place to be, and all the time someone can just waltz in and take over? How safe is that? I mean…" He paused for breath then but it only served to add fuel to his anger "… the world is so screwed up right now and all they can do is tell us lies! Hogwarts is meant to be _safe_." To the amazement of everyone except Hermione, and maybe Ginny, he sounded like he was about to cry. The moment was fleeting, however. "How can it be safe when Malfoy is in charge? It's going to be last year all over again, only worse because Malfoy is ten times worse than Umbridge! How did this stupid concord get agreed to in the first place? Who in Merlin's name even signed it?"

"The Wizarding families signed it, Potter. Of which your own is included, by the way. And I really resent the implication that my parents would do anything less than try to protect you. Do I really need to remind you that they chose _you_ over one of their own sons?" If any of her brothers had been there, they would have recognised the quality in Ginny's voice- an icy calm- that meant explosion was imminent. But none of her brothers were there, so Harry forged on ahead, looking shocked that she'd say that to him.

"Ginny… that's not what happened, and you know it! I love your parents! I'm just sick and tired of having people lie to me, try to protect me." He paused, frowning as he met her gaze. "You don't really believe that about Percy, do you? That they chose me over him?" Hermione's eyes widened a fraction at that- realising that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be pretty. Before Ginny had a chance to respond, she jumped in with a question, hoping desperately to defuse the situation. At least until Ron came back and could talk some sense into both of them. Or shout loud enough to be heard over them, at least.

"Why did they sign it though? That's what I don't understand- why would they create something so binding?" Ginny sighed exasperated, rather like Hermione would have acted when trying to explain electricity to Ron.

"Because the Wizarding world wasn't like it is now. Wizards and Muggles lived side by side for that large part. There was secrecy, yes, because magic can't do everything. And we're talking about a time before there was proper civilization- there were kings and queens and blood was everything, even to Muggles. Of course the Wizarding families signed it. Of course they made it as strong as possible, so it would last as long as possible. It was for our own safety. It wasn't an anti-Muggle thing. It was pro-wizard. It's just… today? That's a completely different." She was almost whispering by the end, leaning up against the back of the couch, suddenly exhausted.

"And it's happening now, so we all have to deal with it. We're not going to get anywhere if we, uh…" Neville seemed to realise that the entire house was listening to him, and shrank a little, unconsciously taking a step toward Ginny. "… We need to stay together on this. Eh, because if we're fighting amongst ourselves we won't ever be able to fight You-Know-Who. We won't be strong enough." Like Ginny before him he wilted at the end but his words seemed to have made a difference. The room was less tense, anyway. Sort of.

"So we just accept it? Accept that our lives are going to be dictated by four Purebloods just because they can trace their family back two hundred years?" A Muggle-born third year, brave enough to speak, but not brave enough to step forward.

A good thing too, because Ginny suddenly looked ready to spit nails.

"I'll have you know, Jackie Welsh, that I can trace my family back six hundred years on _both_ sides- I can name every great aunt and every single bloody cousin because that's how bloody important it is in the Wizarding world. What did you all think? That blood games came along with You-Know-Who?"

"Ginny, don't snap like that. It's not fair. Lavender was right earlier- we can't expect them to know, just like they can't expect us to understand. But we're still the same, and I refuse to let this divide our house. That bloody hat put us all here for a reason! We're Gryffindors, every single one of us- regardless of our heritage. It's time we start acting like it, and actually pull together. Now is not the time to be children. We're Gryffindors." At that, the last of the tension deflated from Ginny, and she sagged against his shoulder.

"I'm just so worried Neville. Where's Ron?"

And while Harry contemplated the fact that his best friend was still missing, hours later, he couldn't quite ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind that reminded him of where the hat had originally wanted him to go.


	3. Ripples

There was a stampeding herd of Hippogriffs in Ron's stomach as he followed Basingstoke out of the great hall. For once, he felt no anxiety at being watched by hundreds of students. No, this time all the anxiety centred on the knowledge that he had just betrayed everything he parents stood for… and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant saving Ginny or Neville from having to. He fell into step with the Ravenclaw representative, saying nothing but walking together. Ahead of them, the girl from Hufflepuff was trying to avoid doing the same with Malfoy by carefully keeping two steps behind him at all times. In any other situation, Ron would have found this funny but the weight in his stomach took all the humour out of it.

They knew what was happening, of course. They wouldn't have been able to claim the position otherwise. The council was being formed, and they were it. He knew the Hufflepuff girl from somewhere, but he couldn't _quite_ place her, and the boy from Ravenclaw was the younger brother of one of Charlie's friends. Maybe. And Malfoy- of course he knew Malfoy. The whole school knew Malfoy.

_The whole school knew him now, too. _The realisation of that was twinned with a solemn vow that he would never be jealous of Harry again. He hadn't done anything yet and he already knew that responsibility, especially of this kind, was going to be a pain in the arse. Presuming of course, that he was allowed stay at Hogwarts- Ron was fairly convinced that as soon as Ginny wrote to tell their parents, he'd find himself removed from the school and making his way to St. Alphards to finish his education. Ginny too, probably. And, although he would miss Hogwarts, he wasn't sure it was a terrible idea. He was really not cut out for this. And suddenly, the idea of silence was terrifying.

"So, Fawcett, what was it that the rest of the Ravenclaws got so upset about?" His voice was far softer than he'd intended but he could see that Ursula, ahead of him, had heard him too.

"Nothing really- just some of the Muggleborns didn't understand and wanted to hold an election, of all things. The others will explain to them now, and I don't suppose there'll be any trouble." Ron was ready to accept that as truth, given that he wasn't sure he even cared, but Ursula spun to face him.

"That's not all, though, is it? There was something else- I heard it." For a Hufflepuff, she was surprisingly brave, questioning a boy who stood almost two feet taller than her and with a face like a thundercloud. He reddened at her question, and sighed.

"There's someone else in Ravenclaw on the same level as me- but she didn't even acknowledge that there was anything happening. That's why the others wanted a vote- because she wouldn't cede and I couldn't if I didn't know whether she'd claim." He made a face. "We'd still be sitting there, waiting for Looney to make a decision, if it were up to her." Ursula nodded and was turning to move away when Ron's angry voice stopped her.

"Her name is Luna, and she's a good friend of mine. Don't you dare talk about her like that again where I can hear you, okay?" Despite the fact that Simon was taller and stronger, the elder boy still shrank away under Ron's accusing stare and quickly uttered his apologies. Ursula smiled a little,

"I'm glad she has a friend. I knew her when we were little, and her mum's death really did a number on her, I think. And she'll have to be one of your deputies Simon, so I don't imagine speaking badly of her is the best way to start a working relationship." Ron groaned then, loud enough that even Malfoy turned to scowl at him.

"I'd forgotten all about the deputies. That means that Mum and Dad will kill me _and_ Ginny, not just me. Gin was right- we're going to be disowned."

"I know how that goes- my step-mother is Muggleborn. She's practically my mother, and my little sister is a half-blood. I don't go in for all this pureblood nonsense. Not really. But then, this thing was called, and I found myself standing up to claim." She bit her lip, thinking hard, "I think there might be a magic to it- something that made me stand instead of any of the others. I know a few of us are close, so there could have been a challenge." She had fallen into step with Ron and Simon, walking in between them and making two steps for every one they took just to keep up.

"It's possible, of course. I wouldn't be surprised, given the circumstances of the concord, and the age of it, if there was magic used on it that can't be broken." _Stupid Ravenclaws_ Ron thought _always have to be smarter than everyone else._ But he didn't say that aloud.

"I really hope that's not true Fawcett, because if it is we're in deeper than we thought, and there's no getting out. I don't know about you two, but I'm too busy trying to not fail my classes to run Gryffindor house."

Malfoy, finally deciding to join the conversation he'd been eavesdropping on since it started,

"Weasley, you're too busy trying to walk and talk at the same time to run Gryffindor house." The blonde boy sneered "Then again, it's not like any of the Gryffs will even listen to you anyway. Smart money is on Gryffindor for the first rebellion- but, that's right, isn't it? You don't _have_ any money." Ron, for once, didn't even reply. His face went red and he clenched his fists, but he said nothing. Simon, however, wasn't so shy about it.

"Oh, and you're so well off, Malfoy? I heard that with your father in prison all your assets have been frozen. How's that treating you? Have you run out of potion for your hair yet?" Ursula sniggered, and Ron chuckled but Malfoy's face darkened and his sneer twisted his face.

"You think you're better than me, Fawcett? I know exactly who your family are, and they weren't standing far from mine on Judgement Day." Simon paled considerably and he launched himself at Malfoy, held back only by Ron's hold on the back of his robes.

"He's really not worth it Simon. It may have taken me years to learn, but he's an arsehole at the best of times, and he usually goes away if you ignore him. He's just trying to bait you." Simon relaxed, and they continued walking, hurrying a little to catch up to Basingstoke who, by now, was waiting impatiently outside the door to an unused classroom on the fourth floor. Or, at least, it had been an unused classroom. Now the plaque on the door read 'Council Meeting Room' and a smaller sign under it read 'meetings by appointment only'. As Ron let the others filter into the room in front of him, he couldn't help but re-evaluate his Ravenclaw counterpart- what had Malfoy meant by the Judgement day, and what kind of dark company did he suddenly find himself keeping?

"Come along now- no dawdling. We have business to attend to." Basingstoke ushered him inside with an imperious little wave, closing the door after them with a flick of his wand.

Inside, the room held one circular table and four chairs in the centre with three chairs pushed up against each wall. The elder wizard gestured for them all to take a seat at the round table, even as he leaned up against the window himself.

"I trust that you all understand what you are doing here." Ron nodded slowly, noticing the others do the same. The sick feeling in his stomach had returned threefold he really wished, just for a second, that he had passed this off to Neville. "Good. At least some of the old traditions have been retained. Before we begin, do any of you have any questions?" Four heads shook from left to right, not one of them thinking coherently enough to verbalise any of the thoughts floating in their heads.

Basingstoke smiled slowly, and removed from behind him four thick scrolls of parchment.

"These scrolls are for you- one for Ravenclaw," He tossed the ancient scroll to Simon, seemingly uncaring if the boy caught it or not. He did, but barely. "One for Slytherin," Draco barely managed to catch his, snatching it from the air by only his fingertips, "One for Hufflepuff", Ursula, prepared now, caught her scroll with no trouble and fought back a grin of triumph. Simon raised an eyebrow at her- amused at her glee, and she giggled. "And, last but not least, one for Gryffindor." This time, the throw was so badly aimed that Ron couldn't possibly reach it without leaping from his seat. Even with his Keeper reflexes, he would have found it difficult. Instead he silently cast the spell that Hermione had taught him years before, using the wand he'd been holding in his hand since they'd left the great hall. The scroll floated gracefully toward him, and he plucked it from the air with gentle hands. Beneath his fingers, the parchment was rough and yellowing with the crest of Gryffindor sealing it shut.

"I do not know what these scrolls say- only the appointed representative can, and should, read them. If the information contained within is of a sensitive nature, I implore you to use your best discretion." Ron was watching Basingstoke's face as he spoke, and couldn't help but shiver at the idea of the stranger's 'best discretion'. He really didn't like the sound of that at all.

"However, that is not the purpose of this meeting. Today, I wish to explain to you all exactly why it is that the IWF felt the need to intervene in Hogwarts and what we expect from you- our representative council here. So, let's begin with a brief history of the organisation…" And suddenly, Ron was back on solid ground. He could pretend to listen- he'd been doing that in class for years. Besides, Hermione would have the whole situation figured out by the time he got back to the common room. She'd tell him what to do. Leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table in front of him, Ronald Weasley settled in for what was arguably the most important lecture of his life and did his best not to fall asleep.

* * *

"My lord, we have received word from the spy." 

"Well? What does he have to say?" The hooded and cloaked figure standing by the fire was paying his guest his full attention, even as he browsed through the old tome in his hands. Faint, peeling lettering on the spine of the book read _Intempesta Nox._

"He sends word that your plan has come to fruition. All is progressing as expected." The speaking figure, kneeling in front of his lord, visibly flinched when the aforementioned lord turned red eyes on him.

"Good. Send word in the usual manner." He dropped the book onto the side table, glancing back at his still-kneeling servant and smiling. "You can get up now." Scrambling to his feet, the messenger bowed and almost ran from the room, tripping over his robes as he rushed out the door.

"It's about time I pay a visit to an old friend." In the firelight, his eyes almost looked red.

* * *

It was late that same night in number 12, Grimmauld Place, London when Remus Lupin finally returned from wherever he had been that day, to find Molly and Arthur Weasley and several of their sons waiting for him, alongside Tonks, Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. The tension in the air told him immediately that something was very badly wrong. 

"What is it? Is it Dumbledore? Harry?" Arthur shook his head, looking older than Remus had thought possible.

"You had better sit down Remus." He did as he was told, dropping into the only free seat at the table, between Bill and Mad-Eye, and was almost afraid to hear what was coming.

"The IWF have intervened at Hogwarts. Dumbledore sent word this morning that the representative had arrived." Remus, as expected, gasped.

"But that means… the concord? The agreement? What about the Ministry- can't they do anything?" Arthur shook his head slowly.

"The contract was very clear Remus; the ministry have no say in the matter. In fact, this could have happened last year too, when the Ministry itself tried to interfere." Beside him, Remus could feel Bill Weasley tense as the boy spoke. Although, Bill wasn't really a boy. Remus just remembered him that way- six years old and running around headquarters asking for his uncles.

_They promised they would tell me and Charlie a story before bedtime. Where are they? Are they with my mum? _

"We aren't sure, but the chances are that either Ron or Ginny will have to stand for Gryffindor. Their only other option, really, is that Longbottom boy. Almost all the rest of the Gryffindors are of 'inferior blood'." Around him, the rest of his family muttered quiet curses. Even the twins were quiet.

"I'm not sure whether to be relieved that at least one of the houses will have someone from our side in charge, or terrified because one of the houses will have someone from our side in charge." Moody, to his other side, barked a laugh at the werewolf's words.

"Well, yer in good company so Remus. Very good company indeed."

* * *

_Intempesta Nox_ means 'The dead of night' 


	4. Family

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

* * *

Molly and Arthur were sitting with four of their sons in the front room of number 12 when the owl (finally) arrived from Hogwarts. Molly couldn't bring herself to actually open it, passing it off to her husband instead. He took a deep breath and tore the envelope with more force than was probably necessary.

"Dear Merlin, it's from Ginny!" They had been expecting Dumbledore to keep them informed. Molly gasped and her boys grinned- of course it was from Ginny. Since when did Dumbledore ever keep people informed (even his own people) as things were actually happening?

"Go on then Dad, read it!" Charlie, like Ron, had never been too patient. Arthur, who had been scanning the words himself, looked up at his second eldest and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry." He coughed to clear his throat.

"_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I'm not sure if you've heard yet but a stranger arrived in Hogwarts this morning- the representative to the school from the IWF. This evening, he called up the student representatives and Ron claimed. It was me or him, really, and he made me cede. Well, he didn't make me. But he told me to." _The twins interrupted their father with laughter, George exclaiming "That sounds like our Ginny alright!" Arthur sent them a withering look, which they completely ignored, and continued.

"_I don't really remember the stories, but if what I do recall of the council system, I expect I'll be Ron's second in Gryffindor with Neville his third. I hope it doesn't go much beyond that because Gryffindor is running low on Purebloods at the moment. I never realised before just how many Muggleborns are in Gryffindor but I suppose it makes sense given how brave they have to be to leave the Muggle world in the first place._

_There's a lot of tension here at the moment- even in Gryffindor. The Muggleborns and the half-bloods feel victimised and while I don't blame them for that, I do hex them for what they're saying about Ron. He's not back yet from wherever they all went- I don't even think the twins could find him now." _Fred and George exchanged a worried look- if he wasn't on the map, then where the hell was he? They'd always thought that everywhere on Hogwarts was covered by the map.

"_And I'm rambling now, sorry, because I don't want to get to the bit where I ask if you're going to pull us out of Hogwarts. I know- and Ron knows too- how far against everything you've ever taught us all this goes. But I don't want to leave, I don't think. And certainly not if it means that the rest of my house will be left to the mercy of the likes of Malfoy without us around to throw down." _Her brothers all grinned at that- even her father smiled. Molly, however, looked far too worried to smile.

"_Let us know what you want us to do. I really could use some guidance here, because I think I might have already alienated every friend that I have. That was an accident._

_Much love,_

_Ginny." _Arthur stopped reading and put the letter down on the table in front of him.

"Not as informative as it could have been, but at least _she_ wrote to us." Arthur stopped himself from continuing; almost biting his tongue in the effort, because he knew whatever he said next wouldn't have been fair- to Dumbledore, or anyone else.

"You can't really fault her for getting straight down to business though- if they thought they'd be pulled from the school and they did it anyway? That must mean that there is no-one else suitable in Gryffindor." Bill made a face "That's a scary thought. Ron and Ginny in charge of the whole house." He actually shuddered. "At least it's not those two, I suppose." Fred and George did their best to look offended but it didn't really work. They would have hated that- the responsibility, the respect. They were meant to be the anarchists, not the leaders. Charlie laughed at their attempt at offence, before adding his own two Knuts to the conversation.

"They can't really think that Mum and Dad would take them out though? Pulling them from Hogwarts is a bit extreme, isn't it?" His mother answered him, her voice tight and strained.

"If this were happening at any other time Charlie, I wouldn't hesitate to bring them home. If they weren't friends with Harry, and if they didn't already know about the order, I'd bring them home. If we didn't need them to stay there to keep control of the house, I'd bring them home." Unsurprisingly, her voice cracked with tears. "This, combined with that fiasco in the department of mysteries, makes them into two of the biggest targets in that school, and I would like nothing better than to go up there myself and drag them back to the Burrow."

"Fair enough then." Charlie muttered, getting a giggle (not that they would ever admit to giggling) from the twins.

"I'll bring this along to Remus- let him know what's going on. I daresay there will be some relief that Ron has claimed for Gryffindor, even if he has made himself a target. Again." Arthur waved the letter at his family. "It may not say much, but it's better than what we had before now!"

"Oh come on- there's loads in there! If Gin says that Gryffindor house is tense, she means that it's about to explode. Gryffindor is running low on Purebloods- that means that Ron and Ginny are well above everyone else in there, and if Ron gets pulled as Rep the other houses won't listen to Gryffindor." Fred paused for breath, glancing around at his slightly shocked family before continuing his rant, "The friends she's talking about are Harry and Hermione, obviously, although I hope to Merlin they aren't the same ones she had to hex. And the fact that we wouldn't be able to find Ron might mean he's not in the castle. Or, if he is, he's very well hidden. And I mean _very _well hidden."

"And if that's not enough, she said _Malfoy_ specifically when she mentioned the other houses so obviously he's representing for Slytherin and because she didn't mention the other two, she doesn't think they're likely to act like he does." George finished for his twin as Fred dropped back into his seat. The other stared at them, varying expressions of wonder across their faces.

"How do you two know all that?" Bill narrowed his eyes in suspicion and for once, the twins blushed.

"Well… you know… amazing powers of deduction?" Fred attempted lamely. The other Weasley's kept staring, waiting for the actual answer.

"Ginny is addressing us in there, alright? That bit about 'the twins wouldn't be able to find him' that's code, alright? And if that bit is in code, the rest of it definitely holds more than face value. She's a smart one, our Gin. If that got intercepted, half of it would be dismissed as rubbish but she's still managed to tell us everything we need to know." George was bright red as he spoke, careful to avoid catching Fred's eye in case he accidentally blurted out the truth. Rare, for one of the twins to actually be worried about telling the truth. He really didn't want his mother to find out about that map. Or, more specifically, where Harry had gotten it.

Molly nodded slowly, seeming to accept that for now.

"Alright then Arthur- you bring that along to Remus, and take Fred and George with you. I'm going to send a letter back to Ginny and let her know that she's not coming home quite yet. Bill, Charlie?" Her two eldest, who were apparently trying to sidle out the door, came to a halt when she called them. They may be all grown up and living away from home for years, but their mother could still strike fear into their hearts. "Put the kettle on, will you dears? And make up some sandwiches, please. I have a feeling we might have guests this evening." On their way out the door, Bill shoved Charlie in the back, saying quietly,

"This is all your fault for not moving fast enough. Git." Several moments later, their mother was shouting at them again, demanding to know why Charlie had his brother in a headlock.

* * *

As it turned out there was a reason that Albus Dumbledore had yet to write to the Weasleys, or anyone else for that matter. He was at his desk, in his office, thumbing through the ancient admissions book to Hogwarts. Every single student that had ever been invited to the school was listed inside, alongside their dates of attendance. When he'd first become headmaster, he'd sat looking through the same book, searching for his own name and that of his brother. When he eventually found them _Albus Dumbledore _1892-1899 and _Aberforth Dumbledore _1890-1897, he had merely sat looking at them, running his fingers over the letters and remembering a much easier time. He was doing that again, that night. The pages of the book rustled as he turned them, once again seeking out his own entry. The original entry, not the one at the front which showed his (somewhat spotty) tenure as headmaster, or the one which documented his teaching career. He found his own name where it always was, halfway through the book and halfway down the page. Aberforth was listed on a different page, several pages back, and Dumbledore alternated between the two for a few minutes. He remembered his own education very well, and his professors too. Times were certainly different- he had far more freedom to experiment as a student than he allowed the children under his own care. He had the time (and the money, he supposed) to do what he wanted, learn what he wanted. Smiling ruefully, Dumbledore realised that he'd also been able to say and do what he wanted because Aberforth had always been there to get him out of trouble. 

It turns out that even when you're over a century old you sometimes still need your big brother's help. Moving slowly (Albus was hard pressed to recall if he had ever moved as slowly before) and carefully avoiding touching his damaged hand off anything, the headmaster moved to the fireplace and threw in a handful of Floo Powder.

"The Hogs Head" He announced, stepping into the green flames…

… and out again, at the other side, in the empty Hogs Head pub in Hogsmeade. His brother was, unsurprisingly, behind the bar. Surprisingly, he was cleaning the glass in his hand the Muggle way, albeit using an incredibly dirty looking tea towel.

"Albus! Fancy seeing you here- and on a school night too! What would the teachers say?" Aberforth's lilting sarcasm carried easily to his brother's ears and Albus couldn't help but grin. Not the usual dotty-old-man smile that he sported these days but an actual smile.

"I'm afraid the teachers would be scandalised to think that their beloved headmaster would be caught in such an establishment." Still smiling, he hoisted himself up onto a barstool and met his brother's concerned gaze. Sometimes, Aberforth was far too perceptive for his liking. "The IWF have sent their representative to Hogwarts. The council has convened. I need your advice, Abe, and a stiff drink." Quietly and with the grace of a man well used to tending bar, the _other_ Dumbledore fetched a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses.

"Have we got a man on the inside yet?" All business, this other Dumbledore. The headmaster raised a glass to his brother and sighed.

"I really don't think that's going to matter. I fear the worst Abe, and if they want what I think they might, then I'm not sure I can stop it."

"What is it you fear then? I can't help if you don't tell me Alb."

Eyes shining with tears for the first time in almost sixteen years, Albus Dumbledore looked truly miserable as he looked up at his brother.

"I think he's come to destroy the school from the inside. And there's nothing I can do, nothing anyone can do, to stop him. What's worse is I'm not even sure if it's the ministry behind it, or Voldemort, or someone inside the IWF itself."

"A three-headed hydra, eh? Well, we've faced hardier things in our time than water monsters Alb. And what do you mean there's nothing anyone can do? Isn't that what the bloody council are for in the first place?" Albus shook his head, dejected.

"They're just children Abe; they shouldn't have to deal with any of this. This is far too much responsibility for young shoulders. And at least one of them is in deep with the other side. That's a quarter of the school beyond my reach and I can't stop it."

As only a brother- or family, at any rate- can, Abe Dumbledore clouted his younger brother over the head.

"Listen to yourself Albus! You give this one kid credit for turning his house against you but think the rest are children, playing an adults game! These aren't the children we were Albus- I've had them in here, remember? I know their parents. Those Weasley kids will do you proud, mark my words. As for the other two, well, the Cadwallader family were on the fence in the last war, and the Fawcetts may have been leaning to the other side but nothing was ever proven. That's three-quarters of the school still up for grabs, and here you are, ready to give in. Really, Albus." He didn't quite tut his disapproval, but he came close.

Marvelling at his brother's ability to just _know_ things, and slightly calmer than he had been just a moment before, Albus spoke in a quiet voice, saying the words that made his blood run cold.

"It's not the houses that I'm worried about Abe, it's the children inside them. I think… when the Muggleborn children understand the full scope of the council's power, and of their position as defined within it, there may well be rebellion Abe. They won't stand for tyranny." His brother's eyes were wide when he looked up, as Abe realised the real fear behind Albus' words. "I can only hope that the council don't enjoy the power they have, because if they do… there may be no hope for Hogwarts at all."

* * *

Leaving the council room, scroll tucked into his robes and arms weighed down with books, Ron Weasley couldn't have looked less like the new head of Gryffindor house. His hair was mussed and his eyes were tired and, had he been speaking, his voice would have been scratchy from overuse. Around him, the other council members were similarly laden. None of them even had the sense to magic the books after them, or make them lighter even. They were all far too tired. When they emerged back into the entrance hall, the lights were out and the castle stood in shadow. Mr. Basingstoke bid them goodnight and disappeared into the gloom. 

None of them moved, yet. There had been so many things said, but there was so much left to say still.

"You lot want to meet again in the morning? Say half seven, before breakfast? We have a lot of things to get straightened out but I'm thinking in circles right now, I'm so knackered." Ron was always so eloquent. The other three nodded, faces gleaming in the darkness.

"You all going to be alright getting back to your common rooms? I can't imagine there's anyone but Peeves up at this hour." Again, they all nodded and Ursula spoke,

"I'll hold your hand as far as the Ravenclaw common room, if you want, Simon?" She was obviously teasing, and he laughed accordingly.

"Sure. Why not?" They laughed again and said their goodbyes, disappearing off in the general direction of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dormitories.

"How about you Malfoy? Will you be alright?" The blonde boy snorted, and his ever present sneer intensified.

"I'll be an awful lot safer than you will, I think. Remember what I said Weasley- smart money is on Gryffindor." And the boy turned, leaving Ron alone in the entrance hall. Sighing, he adjusted the books in his arms and set off for Gryffindor tower. He really hoped everyone else was already asleep.

Everyone was, in fact, not asleep yet. Or at least, not everyone was asleep. Ginny Weasley was sitting in front of the dying fire, fighting to keep her eyes open and with her arms wrapped around her legs to keep herself warm. She was alone in the room and had been for almost an hour. Checking her watch (half past two, she noticed) she was about to call it a night herself when the portrait hole opened and Ron clambered through. She was across the room before he even saw her coming, and he dropped his books as she launched herself into his arms.

It was only when he returned her hug that Ginny let out the sobs that had been building since she'd last seen her brother. Shoulders shaking, she cried for what felt to Ron like an eternity before allowing him lead her back to the fireplace.

"What's the matter Gin? What's wrong?" Her face was blotchy and there was an unidentifiable something hanging from her nose, but her voice was strong as she relayed the earlier events in Gryffindor tower.

"There were some horrible fights Ron, and I was involved in a lot of them. I may have even started a few." She winced. "I'll be surprised if Harry and Hermione ever speak to me again." She moved away from him then, sliding down the couch a little. "Mum wrote back to me though, and we're not going home. I can't decide whether to be relieved or not." She sniffled again and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her robes.

"You okay?" It was then that she realised just how knackered her brother was.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks Ron." She was about to send him off to bed when she remembered his meeting. "How did your first council meeting go?" He shot her a look that was half exasperated and half irritated and one hundred percent Ron.

"It was about as interesting as double Divination." He groaned. "And I have to be back very early in the morning, so I really should get some sleep." He noticed her obvious disappointment and laughed, messing up her hair as he stood up from the couch. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow Gin- you're my second, after all." Waving over his shoulder, he trundled up the stairs to the sixth year boy's dorm and fell into his bed, barely remembering to set his alarm. He was asleep almost before he rolled over.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


	5. Luck

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Woe is me.

* * *

Luckily for Ron, his sister had the foresight to gather up the books that he had dropped and bring them up to her dorm with her when she finally headed to bed herself. Muttering to herself about her brother's forgetfulness, she climbed the stairs slowly. She really hoped the other girls in her dorm were asleep- her earlier anger wasn't hidden too far beneath the surface but her rational side knew that the last thing she needed was another fight. She'd already done enough damage for one day. She dressed for bed by wand light, not wanting any reason for the others to wake, and clambered under her covers, yawning widely. The leather-bound books sat on her bedside locker in a neat pile. Ginny, when she'd first retrieved them, had fully intended to flick through them herself. But she was asleep almost as soon as she lay down. 

When she woke in the morning, the books were gone.

* * *

Ron woke to the sound of his alarm screeching at seven o'clock and he couldn't help but groan. Stretching, he muttered to himself about getting to bed earlier in the future- he almost felt as if he hadn't slept at all. Quietly he gathered his things for the shower, washing and dressing himself as quietly as possible. He really didn't want to face his classmates just yet. He grabbed his schoolbag and tucked the scroll into his robes again and was down in the common room, before anyone else, at twenty past seven. From other people's (i.e. Hermione's) experience, he knew that the students would begin to appear shortly after half seven, for breakfast at eight. Given that he was rarely seen up before eight, he _really_ didn't want to meet the people that were. Morning people gave him a headache and he was already grumpy. 

He was almost out the portrait hole when he remembered the bloody books that he'd dropped the night before. Grumbling, he searched the common room before realising that his sister must have taken them with her. A tiny (much denied) surge of gratitude sprang up deep inside him, swallowed quickly by annoyance that she hadn't thought to bring them after him.

He stood at the bottom of the girl's dormitory, contemplating the stairs. He knew they'd turn into a slide and he'd be kicked back out, and he knew that there was nobody else up yet. Frowning, he decided it wasn't worth the attention. The last thing he needed was the female population of Gryffindor house claiming he'd invaded (or tried to, at least) their privacy. Instead, he crossed the common room again in long strides and pushed the painting outward.

The fat lady was saying something to him but Ron wasn't listening- he was going to be late, and it occurred to him that this might be a really bad idea. Checking his watch for the third time (yes, it was twenty five past seven already), he took off at a sprint for the council room, willing the others to be late too. No such luck- he was the last to arrive and the only one to not bring the books Basingstoke had given them.

_At least I have the scroll._ He thought, taking it from his robes and placing it carefully on the tabletop. _Even if I haven't so much as broken the seal on the bloody thing yet._

They were quiet this morning- yawning and stretching and avoiding each other's eyes.

The sound of the door slamming shut (Ron, being last, had pushed it harder than he'd thought and it banged quite impressively) brought all the attention to Ron, who could feel his ears turn red. He hated when that happened. Ursula and Simon giggled nervously, and Ron threw himself into his seat opposite Malfoy, mentally willing one of the others to say something. Thankfully, Ursula complied with his silent plea.

"I suppose we should get to work then, before we have to leave for breakfast?" Ursula sounded nervous at the prospect and Ron was comforted to know that he wasn't the only one that had avoided their housemates that morning.

"Anyone got news to report from their house? There were some lively debates in Gryffindor last night, I hear." His tone was as dry as he could make it, and he didn't miss the smirk on Draco's face as he spoke. Ursula and Simon exchanged glances and muttered their sympathies.

"Hufflepuff wasn't too bad, I don't think. Nobody was hexed or anything and the common room is still standing, so the fireworks may be waiting until I'm actually _there_ to get caught in the crossfire." She matched Ron's dry sarcasm with her own, and he grinned at her, welcoming the support. Simon didn't know what had happened in Ravenclaw- everyone had been asleep when he'd arrived and still in bed when he'd left, so he was clueless. Draco merely grunted- he hadn't seen any of his own housemates, he said. Ron wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, but he couldn't decide either what Malfoy would gain by lying to them.

"I suppose the first order of business then, would be to establish our house councils? Do you lot know who your seconds are to be?" Ron knew his own, of course. It isn't hard when there are only a handful of eligible candidates. Simon nodded confidently.

"Mine will have to be Lovegood and Chang. There are a couple of others but they're all too young. I was thinking of finding them this morning, before classes start, to give them a briefing. Cho, at least, will be expecting it." He left his estimation of what Luna would be expecting unsaid, knowing that Ron wouldn't stand for anything nasty to be said about the girl. Simon secretly hoped he could get her to cede the position so he could get Goldstein in instead.

"Nott and Zabini, I think, will be mine. There might be some dispute over Zabini's inclusion because of his mother's marital, uh, history" Here, Draco snickered "But I don't imagine that he'll let that stand in his way." The other three laughed a little- Ron amazed that he'd even consider laughing at anything a Malfoy said, but finding he needed to release the tension more than he needed to uphold the family grudge.

"I'm not sure yet who'll be on mine- like I said last night, there are a few of us who are very close. Finch-Fletchley and Bones might win out in the end, but Summerby and Smith are close too. It might come down to someone ceding, in the end." She sounded vaguely upset, but none of the boys made a move to comfort her. Ron didn't even know where he'd start, if he were to try.

"Maybe we should get them all here, now, and get this over and done with- Ginny is all set to be my second, and Longbottom will be third. I think we all know that there's very little choice in Gryffindor after that." Malfoy smirked again- a sight that Ron was rapidly growing fed up with. They'd agreed, the night before (under threat of punishment from Basingstoke) to be civil to one another. Apparently, the unity of the council was imperative to the continuing success of Hogwarts and efficient communication with the IWF and their liaison. Or something along those lines. Ron hadn't really been paying attention, and he couldn't care less about the 'unity of the council', but he'd try. For a while. Or, for as long as Malfoy stayed quiet anyway. One comment about Muggleborns or Mudbloods, and Ron would be on him like Dragonpox. That thought alone made the Gryffindor grin back at Malfoy, baring his teeth in a slightly threatening manner. Was it wrong for him to really hope Draco would say something offensive?

* * *

Ginny flounced into the great hall for breakfast, red hair flashing as she crossed the floor to the Gryffindor table. Almost every eye was on her, including the professors, as she walked and she couldn't help but flounce a little more, holding her head high. The hall was almost full, and in every corner there were hushed whispers as she walked past. From what she'd overheard, Ginny had been the only one to see any of them since the evening before and somehow the whole school had found that out. Frowning, she sat down next to Neville (as far away from Harry and Dean as she could get, despite the curious looks they were shooting in her direction). How had anyone found out she'd been speaking to Ron? She hadn't told anyone, and he'd been gone before everyone else that morning. Her expression darkened as she realised that someone must have been listening to their conversation the night before. Even darker thoughts occurred to her then, as she thought back over the night before. Neville shot her a concerned look as she growled into her coffee, but he didn't ask her any questions- a fact she appreciated more than he would ever know. They left together as soon as she was finished, neatly avoiding all the questions and staunchly ignoring the dirty and suspicious looks. Coincidentally she was ready to leave just as Harry was making his way toward her and Ginny moved faster, her face carefully painted with a mask of calm. 

Those who knew her really well though, would have spotted the fire flashing in her eyes as she left the hall. Ginny wasn't shy- she hadn't been for a very long time- but she wasn't going to put up with this rubbish for long. She was not Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Had-The-Patience-Of-A-Saint, so Merlin help anyone who got in her way that day.

This perhaps made it unfortunate that Professor McGonagall was the first to meet her, just outside the doors to the great hall. The Professor's face was grim and she looked older than Ginny could remember- older even than she had when she'd returned to the school the year before following four stunners to the chest.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Longbottom. I was just coming to look for you two." McGonagall reached into her robes and produced a piece of folded parchment. "I have a task for you, now. Please locate all the students on this list and assemble them here. You have five minutes- I believe that they are all still inside the hall." She handed Neville the parchment, and waited a beat. When they hadn't moved, shocked into standing still, she gestured wildly for them to get to work.

Blinking, Ginny followed Neville's lead and returned to the great hall. A tiny, tiny part of her regretted ruining her perfect exit (dignified, graceful and poised) by returning but she was more curious than concerned. She read the parchment over her friends' shoulder, and giggled, her anger evaporating suddenly.

"Looks like this is going to be a DA reunion after all. I'll get the Slytherins, you get the Ravenclaws and whoever is finished first can handle the Hufflepuff table." Neville nodded, relieved that Ginny had taken the Slytherin table for herself, and dashed off to the Ravenclaw table.

Taking a deep breath, and ignoring the curious stares, she walked straight to the end of the Slytherin table to where the sixth and seventh years were sitting in their usual seats.

"Zabini, Nott. Professor McGonagall wants to see you in the entrance hall." The two Slytherins looked at her, expressions blank. Several other Slytherins sneered in her direction, but Ginny had long ago grown used to their derision.

"Now!" She barked, and the boys jumped. Spinning on her heel, she marched away to the Hufflepuff table, shouting loud orders to Susan Bones, Adrian Summerby and Zacharias Smith. The three Hufflepuffs looked grim as they joined Zabini and Nott, waiting just inside the Hall doors for Neville, Luna and Cho to join them.

The rest of the school was quiet again, something that was far from usual. Luna, of them all, was the only one who didn't notice the mutinous glares sent their way as they filed out of the great hall.

McGonagall was waiting, her arms crossed across her chest and an expression on her face that defied explanation.

"Follow me." Her voice was colder than Ginny ever remembered hearing it before, and she couldn't help but shiver a little. She walked next to Luna in silence, following McGonagall through the little-used corridors on the ground floor of Hogwarts. There were layers of dust and grime here, and several years' worth of cobwebs in the corners. She couldn't help but wonder why the house elves had left this area of the castle to fall into such disrepair- they must never come in here, she thought, because if they did the corridors certainly wouldn't look like this. It reminded her of how Grimmauld place looked when the order had first moved in- cold, old and empty. It was worse here though, because at least Grimmauld Place had had Kreacher all those years.

McGonagall came to a stop outside a plain wooden door with a tarnished bronze plaque on it, reading 'Council Meeting Room'. She knocked, and the door opened inward. The professor stepped aside and waved them in. As Ginny passed her, she looked up to meet the elder woman's eyes.

"Aren't you coming, professor?" McGonagall's hard eyes softened a fraction at Ginny's words and her voice was low, for Ginny's ears only, as she replied.

"I'm afraid I have not been invited." Blushing suddenly, Ginny ducked her head and walked inside. She suddenly couldn't wait to find out what exactly what was going on.

* * *

Basingstoke carefully untied the scroll from the owl's leg, and stood, pushing his hair from his eyes even as his other hand unrolled the parchment. 

Muttering the spell that would reveal the words- specially coded to him, and warded against interception as was IWF standard operating procedure- he smiled. Had there been anyone there to witness it, they would have said his smile was more of a threat than a comfort. As it was he was alone in the accommodation Dumbledore had provided, allowing him privacy unusual to IWF agents. It was strangely liberating, he thought, as he flicked his wand at the scroll and watched with casual disinterest as it crumbled to ash, this newfound liberty. Whatever would he do with his time?

* * *

The door slamming shut woke Charlie suddenly and he shot up from his, decidedly uncomfortable, position on the couch with a loud gasp, scrambling for his wand with one hand and trying to keep his balance with the other. 

"What? Whose there?" He asked, falling over as he hurried to stand up. His elder brother was standing over him, looking more than a little smug.

"Smooth, Charlie. Real smooth." Reaching down, he grasped his brother's hand and heaved him to his feet. "And you're meant to be the coordinated one." Charlie resisted the urge to drag Bill to the ground, and accepted the help.

"Any news from the school?" His voice was still sleepy but his eyes were clear. Bill shook his head as he turned and headed to the kitchen.

"Not yet, not since Ginny's letter. Dumbledore hasn't been in touch yet. Mum's pissed, and Dad is trying to keep her from running off to Hogwarts to find out what's going on."

They took seats at the table, waiting for the kettle to boil. Bill always made tea the muggle way, like Arthur had taught them. It tasted better than the conjured stuff anyway.

"What's going on then? Why are you here so early?" Bill was slow to reply, taking his time as he rinsed out the teapot and measured the tealeaves.

"Do you remember the last conversation we had with Dumbledore- the information he said we were to wait for?" Charlie replied with a hoarse "Yes" and a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. He knew what was coming.

"Well, the information is in and it's worse than we expected. We leave tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: I love the Weasleys. 


	6. Reunion

Disclaimer: Me? Own Harry Potter? I don't want him, he's whiny...

* * *

Harry watched as Ginny strode out of the great hall for the second time- followed closely by a dozen other students- and he sighed. She'd almost run away from him when he'd tried to approach her earlier and he was certain she'd seen Ron. When he'd woken that morning only to see that Ron was already gone, Harry had cursed himself under his breath for not remembering to set his alarm. He'd been far too annoyed and upset the night before to even consider it- he'd spent half the night talking with Dean and Seamus, until Neville came up to bed and they'd pretended to be asleep. Some tiny part of him felt ashamed of that. Turning to Dean, who'd been sitting next to him and studiously ignoring his girlfriend's existence, Harry asked the question they had both been thinking. 

"What the hell was that about, this time?" Dean shook his head slowly, and pushed himself up from his seat.

"I'm not even sure I care Harry. Come on, we'll be late for Transfiguration." Harry swallowed the dregs from his cup of tea and stood up to follow Dean, unconsciously glancing around for Ron. He was so used to seeing his friend by his side that he actually felt shocked when the redhead wasn't there. He rushed after Dean and Seamus, almost tripping over himself in his eagerness to catch up. Today, for whatever reason, he really didn't want to be alone.

The three Gryffindor boys walked in near-silence to their classroom, ignoring all the curious eyes that landed on Harry. Everyone, apparently, wanted to know what the famous Gryffindor had to say about the latest developments. Harry did his best to pretend that nothing odd was happening. Come to think of it, this sort of thing wasn't an odd occurrence in the life of Harry Potter, boy-wonder, but Seamus couldn't help but feel uncomfortable- he'd never really stopped to think about what happened when people stopped to gawk at the boy-who-lived and his entourage. The boy couldn't help but be suddenly and acutely aware that he was 'entourage'. He felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Ron and Hermione, both of whom were far more used to this than him. Dean, keeping his head down, barely even noticed that they were attracting attention and pushed his way through the crowds to the door of McGonagall's classroom.

They made their way inside and took their usual seats- Harry alone at the table in front of the other two, with two empty seats next to him where Ron and Hermione usually sat and one at theirs where Neville was usually situated. The big room had rarely felt so empty. It helped, a little, to fill up the space when Hermione rushed into the room just before McGonagall closed the doors. She collapsed into her seat, breathing heavily, and Harry couldn't help but stare at her- her hair was wilder and bushier than normal and there were dark circles underneath her eyes. She hadn't been at breakfast, he knew, but from the way she looked, he'd have said she hadn't been to sleep either.

"Are you alright Hermione?" McGonagall shot a sharp look in his direction as he whispered, but he noted that her eyes widened a little in concern when she glanced at Hermione. Hermione shot him a sharp glance of her own and nodded, if a little slowly.

"I'm fine Harry. I didn't sleep well and then I slept in." If her glance at him had been sharp, the one she shot at Lavender and Parvati could have pierced armour. "Apparently, Lav and Pav didn't have the heart to wake me." Nodding slightly, Harry turned to the Professor as she began the day's lecture. He didn't notice the tension leave Hermione's face as he accepted her lie.

* * *

As the day wore on, Harry and Hermione both became far more concerned by the continued absence of their best friend. By lunchtime, they were seriously considering approaching a teacher, or even the headmaster, to find out where Ron, Neville and Ginny were. The only thing that stopped them was the fact that there were several empty seats at the other tables too- if it had just been Ron, he would have been in serious trouble. As it was they sat together at lunch, talking in hushed voices and questioning Ron's absence. Around them, the great hall was almost back to normal. It seemed that the absence of the students in question meant there was really very little gossip to be shared. 

"Should we tell Mr and Mrs. Weasley do you think? Ginny may not have had the chance yesterday and they should know what's going on." Harry winced at the mention of the night before- not one of his finest moments, he knew.

"I dunno. I reckon Dumbledore will have told them. I'd rather not be the messenger, in any case. Ginny seemed to think that they wouldn't be too happy." Hermione snorted, almost choking on her pumpkin juice.

"That's a bit of an understatement, don't you think? She thought her mum would come here personally to skin them both alive for even _considering_ getting involved." Harry grinned- he could imagine Mrs. Weasley doing just that. Frowning suddenly, he turned to his friend.

"Do you reckon she has?" Hermione turned thoughtful for a minute before shaking her head.

"I doubt it Harry. If it were just Ron and Ginny missing, maybe. But I don't think Mrs. Weasley would be too bothered about Malfoy and the rest of them." She paused. "Luna and Neville, maybe, but not the others." It was Harry's turn to snort.

"Yeah, we know how Mrs. Weasley likes to mother the orphans." He sounded unreasonably bitter, even to his own ears, and Hermione was perfectly within her rights to smack him over the head. He was only lucky that Ginny hadn't been there to hear.

* * *

They left together just before the end of lunch, heading to the Dungeons for potions with Slughorn. The old potions master was in the room already, waiting for his class to arrive and he grinned broadly when they walked in the door. 

"Welcome, welcome. I'm glad to see that you two haven't been unduly distracted- it wouldn't do to have two of my brightest students missing out!" Harry forced a grin and muttered something that could have passed for agreement as Hermione beamed at the professor. Harry grinned properly then, recognising the look on his friend's face. Poor old Slughorn didn't know what he was letting himself in for with the cleverest witch in Hogwarts.

"Yes Professor it's been terribly difficult to stay focused but you know how much we both enjoy your classes." Slughorn reddened a little but his smile grew wider. Hermione could give classes in how to butter up professors, Harry thought. She was getting very, very good at being crafty. "What do _you_ think of all this Professor? Should we be worried?" She managed to sound perfectly eager and entirely respectful at the same time, and Slughorn stood a little straighter.

"Now, now Miss Granger, there's no need to be worried. Dumbledore will get all this set to rights in a jiffy- you mark my words. I hear he's already sent an owl." He winked at them, and leaned in conspiratorially. "Now, what can you tell me about that Weasley boy from Gryffindor? Miss Ginevra's elder brother, eh? He's not in my classes, I don't think." Harry shared an incredulous look with Hermione, who blinked once and stared back at Slughorn.

"We don't know him very well, I'm afraid, Professor. That's why we're so worried. I'm Muggleborn, you see, and Harry here was Muggle-raised, so we don't understand any of these Blood traditions. It's all quite frightening." Slughorn's expression was momentarily disappointed, but he sat down opposite them regardless.

"Well now, it's all a bit complicated really but lots of Wizards put great stock in bloodline and history, as you know. Not me, you understand? Some of my favourite students are Muggleborn- like Harry's mother. Now there was a talented witch!" Fleeting sadness passed over the old man's face and Harry's heart ached a little in unison. If he were honest, he liked that Slughorn thought so much of his mum and that he thought Harry was like her, but he could do without the constant reminder that the only thing that left of Lily Evans were his own eyes.

Hermione was nodding and agreeing to whatever Slughorn was saying, but Harry was distracted by his own thoughts. He nodded when she did though, and grunted in what he hoped was an agreeable way occasionally. He really wished Ron were here- he'd be able to explain the whole thing in a couple of words, _and _he might be able to give them some advice on what to say to Ginny to get her to talk to them again. He certainly seemed capable of getting her to talk to him again, regardless of what he'd said to piss her off. Internally, he winced again. Having said all that, Ron had probably never accused his sister of being a pureblood elitist. Not for the first time, Harry hoped that Ginny wouldn't say anything to her brother about their fight before he got the chance to speak to his friend himself. He wasn't sure what he'd say, but it wouldn't sound as bad coming from him, surely.

He was brought back to reality when Hermione poked him in the ribs. Slughorn had retreated to the front of the room, and there were several other students in the classroom.

"Sorry Hermione, I wasn't listening. Did he say anything interesting?" She shook her head, obviously disgruntled.

"Nothing I didn't already suspect anyway. I'll tell you about it later." The room was rapidly filling up and the last thing she wanted to do was debate blood issues in front of the Slytherins. He nodded slowly, suspecting that there was more to her annoyance than her failure to get any important information out of Slughorn, and took the Prince's potion book from his bag. At least the Prince could be relied on.

* * *

Ginny filed out of the council room, head spinning from information overload. Luna fell into step next to her, and she knew Ron was just behind them with Neville. It was well past lunchtime, she knew, and she led the group toward the entrance hall with her stomach rumbling. No-one had thought to ask the house-elves for food and she wasn't about to let anyone who didn't already know what the trick for getting into the kitchens was. They trooped into the hall slowly and conversation gently died away as they waited for someone to speak. It had been a long morning; everyone was tired and varying degrees of grumpy but no-one was ready to leave the safety of the group just yet. 

Predictably, it was Ron who broke the silence. Other might think he was a natural leader, the way he took charge and made the others fall in line, but Ginny knew her brother- he was impatient and hungry, and wasn't prepared to stand around talking when he could be locating food. She stopped short of grinning, but met Neville's eye across the hall. The corner of his mouth was turned up in a half-smile and she raised her left eyebrow at him. In return, his grin grew. Neville knew too, obviously. The others (including, somewhat surprisingly, Draco Malfoy) were silent, listening to Ron speak.

"Back to classes then, everyone. There's still time to get to this lesson, I suppose, and the one after that. House heads will make the announcements back in the common rooms after class, and we'll meet after dinner to report back. Any questions?" Malfoy shifted on his feet, glaring at Ron. Ginny was intrigued- she could tell that the blond boy wanted to say something, but he made no effort to speak. What exactly had happened in that council room before she'd arrived?

"Right then. Off you lot go. See you later." Gradually, the crowd dispersed until Ginny, Ron and Neville were standing alone in the great hall. Silently, Ron cast the _Muffliato_ spell before turning to his sister and his roommate.

"You two alright then?" They nodded slowly, presenting an outward calm that Ron doubted they felt inside.

"I know there's a lot to deal with guys, but there won't be any problems. I don't care what the rest of the council say or don't say, but none of us will be using our power. McGonagall is the head of Gryffindor house as far as I'm concerned, and I'll tell everyone as much this evening." Ginny muttered her agreement but, to her surprise, Neville made a tiny noise of objection.

"Are you sure we can do that, though?" He blushed red as he spoke but despite that, his voice was strong. "I mean… isn't there something that says that the castle won't let us _not_ be in charge?" Ron nodded slowly, and Ginny looked confused. She'd obviously missed something, somewhere.

"Yeah Nev, there is, but I'm not sure what exactly that means and until I do, I'm going to pretend that everything is normal." He shook his head, red hair swinging from side to side. "I'm not going to order people around Neville, not if I can avoid it. We maybe won't tell the _other_ houses what we're doing, to be on the safe side- this'll have to stay in Gryffindor house. And if there's any backlash, I'll take it Neville, don't worry." The round-faced boy nodded slowly, clearly thinking about what his friend had said.

"That's settled then. Come on, I'm starving!" Ginny grinned, linking one arm with Neville and the other with Ron and dragged them off in the direction of the kitchens. Shockingly, neither of the objected in the least.

* * *

"Harry! Wake up!" Hermione elbowed him in the side again, and Harry couldn't help but groan. This day- and this class- were going on forever, it felt like. He rubbed his eyes, glancing at his watch. Only half an hour to go and History of Magic would be finally finished and they could get back to the common room. He glanced into Hermione's notes briefly, scanning them for anything interesting, and then turned back to his own parchment. He'd written about four lines before he'd fallen asleep, and those same lines were now covered by a little pool of drool. Stifling a yawn, he cleaned up his notes and settled back in his chair to go back to sleep. If Ron were here, they'd be playing their fourth or fifth game of hangman by now. Focusing his eyes on the head of the person sitting in front of him, Harry was gradually drifting off again when he finally realised what he was seeing. Or, more importantly, _who _he was seeing. He knew that head! He'd seen that head every school morning for five years! Where the hell had Neville come from, and why hadn't Hermione woken him when he'd gotten there? Sitting up, he poked her in the side and distracted her from her notes again. Her eyes were amused as she glared at him. 

"Caught on, then, have you?" He nodded furiously, and was about to ask where Ron was when she jabbed her quill over her left shoulder. "Ron's back there. He was going to sit next to me but Ernie was sitting there before he got here." She sniffed. "He didn't look too happy about that, when he realised." Harry turned his head to look for his best mate, who he finally located sitting next to Lavender in the back row. He didn't look too happy but Lavender looked ecstatic. He met Ron's gaze and stifled a laugh at the other boy's expression- murderous was too kind a word, Harry reckoned.

* * *

When Ron had been very little, his father had told him all about strange Muggle beliefs- at the time, they'd laughed at how the Muggles could believe such very silly things, but now Ron wasn't so sure. In fact, he was fairly certain that there was a Hell, for one, and that he was in it. Hell, of course, being a bubbly blonde with no common sense and entirely too shrill a voice. He'd been sitting next to her for less than ten minutes and already he'd had enough. Sighing, he settled for staring daggers at the back of Ernie MacMillan's head instead of hexing the girl next to him into permanent silence. MacMillan didn't seem to notice, but Hermione did glance at him with an unreadable expression on her face and some indefinite emotion in her eyes. That was enough to make Ron take notes, for a while at least. Eventually, Lavender seemed to get the hint that he wasn't going to tell her anything- he would have thought it'd be fairly obvious, really, given that the only thing he'd said to her since he'd come in was to question if the seat next to her was free. He felt eyes on him throughout the class, curious stares coming in his direction and he really wished he'd been able to convince Neville to skip this class too. But no, apparently Neville was filled with Gryffindor courage when it suited him. 

_Okay, that was low. Nev was right- you couldn't hide all day._ Ron frowned. Since when was his conscience in any way kind or considerate? He wasn't used to being reasonable, either. Shaking his head to clear it of ridiculous thoughts, and hoping he was answering whatever question Lavender was asking him in the process in not too stupid a manner, he glanced up to see Harry gazing at him in amusement. Harry who, up until now, had been sound asleep on the desk. Ron made faces back, and had to stop a laugh when Harry nodded towards Lavender with his eyebrows raised. Harry, at least, wasn't too worried about at least acknowledging that he existed, Ron thought. When Harry turned back to Professor Binns, Ron let his eyes rest on the back of Hermione's head. At least one of them had seemed happy enough to see him, he supposed.

When the class- finally- ended, Harry rushed to pack together his things and made his way to the back of the classroom. Ron, seeing his friend approach, quickly bid goodbye to Lavender (who looked unreasonably disappointed in Harry's humble opinion) and turned to Harry.

"Hey mate, how are you?" Harry blinked. With everything that was going on, that was the best Ron could do? He snorted.

"Eloquent as ever, eh Ron?" The redhead grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth at Harry.

"It's a talent. Where's Hermione gone?" Glancing around, Harry realised that Hermione had, in fact, disappeared out the door as quickly as she could.

"I'm not sure. I thought she'd want to see you- we've been worried." Ron looked surprised at that, but Harry missed it as he rushed out the door after Hermione, calling a quick "Come on then! What are you waiting for- a written invitation?" back to his friend. Ron waited a beat before following Harry, taking just enough time to meet Neville's eyes and gesture his head toward the door. Neville nodded, and Ron ran. He'd see Neville soon.

Out in the hall, Ron caught sight of Harry disappearing around a corner and took off at a sprint after him, brushing past the other students and ignoring the cries of outrage as he knocked into some of them. He couldn't have known that Lavender, hearing some people curse him under their breaths, had taken it upon herself to berate everyone in sight for not getting out of his way quicker. He wouldn't ever find out either, because Lavender was at least smart enough to never tell him.

As he rounded the corner he almost ran into Harry who was leaning quite comfortably, it appeared, against the wall next to a smug-looking Hermione.

"I knew you'd both follow me. Come on, we need to talk." She pushed herself away from the wall and took off down the corridor, obviously expecting the boys to follow her again. Predictably, they did.

* * *

A/N: I'll get around to plot soon, I swear.


	7. Departure

Disclaimer: I remain HPless.

* * *

Hermione pushed open a cleverly disguised door into an empty classroom. This wasn't one of the abandoned classrooms, but rather the one that some of the school clubs used as a meeting place. As a result there were no cobwebs and none of them had the overwhelming urge to sneeze. She walked to the windowsill, glancing out over the castle grounds, and waited for her friends. She shouldn't have been surprised that, when they did arrive, Harry pushed Ron in the door and Ron threatened Harry with disembowelment. Well, maybe the disembowelment was a little surprising. Laughing loudly, Harry swung the door shut and quickly cast an imperturbable charm on it, even as Hermione was casting the much-despised Muffliato. To be fair to her though, she was making faces as she cast it, still not comfortable with taking instruction from a total stranger. Or worse, from someone who had defaced a book.

Harry couldn't help but grin as he thought that but quickly wiped the smile off his face as she glared at him. He was too happy about Ron being back (and seemingly having not been brainwashed into being a crazy pureblood fanatic) to let her lecture him about something or other. He threw his bag to the floor, where it landed with a thump next to Ron's, and took a seat not far from the Weasley boy. As expected, Ron was already leaning back in his seat with his feet on the table. Harry and Hermione turned to him, expectant looks on their faces, but Ron seemed to be content with tossing Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. He was getting quite good too when Hermione groaned loudly, obviously frustrated.

"Really Ronald! Are you just going to sit there?" He glanced up, flustered, and a bean bounced off his head and onto the floor with a quiet 'plink' sound.

"Uh... sorry? Would you like one?" He held the bag out to her and she flushed red with anger. Harry, catching sight of the glint in Ron's eyes, roared with laughter. Ron grinned cheekily at her and her anger deflated as quickly as it had flared. She even managed a smile.

"Right then. What do you two want to know?" He let his chair fall to the ground but kept his feet on the table and the bag of beans on his lap. Harry and Hermione shared a look and turned to him.

"Everything, I suppose." Ron frowned and muttered something about not knowing where to start, so Hermione took pity on him and actually asked a question.

"Well, what did Basingstoke have to say for himself? Why are the IWF interested in Hogwarts at all?" Ron grimaced again and swung his feet off the table, leaning forward in his chair toward her.

"He didn't say much of anything really. Spouted a load of tosh about Hogwarts being unsafe and that in the current climate it was the 'responsibility of the Federation to protect the future of the magical community.'" He popped another bean into his mouth, gagging slightly as he encountered the mustard flavour. "From what he said though, it seems that there's always been a representative appointed to Hogwarts, even if it was in name only. I think he was working in Germany somewhere before he got sent here. I'm not even sure that he knows why he's here- just that he was the representative at the time, so it's his job."

"Well, I knew that." She sounded unhappy. "Did he say anything else?" Ron shook his head slowly, trying to remember the previous evening.

"I don't think so. Just the usual rubbish really- he sounded like McGonagall at our first prefects meeting. 'Maintain control', 'Act with the best interest of the students at heart', 'Don't go mad with the power and open a torture chamber inside your house'." Ron grinned. "Okay, that last one was mine, but it was along those lines anyway. There's nothing really for him to do here anyway, I don't think. He might like to _think_ he has some influence, but he really doesn't. Not over the students anyway."

"What do you mean? Not over the students?" Her eyes narrowed as she spoke and her voice was tight.

"Well, I think he might be able to do some review or other of the teachers and their teaching methods- like Umbridge last year, I suppose- but I don't think he has the power to sack them or anything." Hermione made a face, and even Harry doubted that one.

"If he can do that, though, there's bound to be more. I hardly think that the IWF would have agreed to a contract that didn't actually give them any control over the school- what would be the point?" Harry nodded in agreement.

"Yeah mate, there's bound to be more. There's _always_ more." Ron shrugged.

"I dunno. I don't think so, but there could be. I wasn't really paying attention to him anyway- and he didn't say much really. Just handed us all a stack of books and then sat there as we talked. Nosy git." He remembered something then, and hopped up from his seat and crossed to his abandoned bag. "He also gave us each one of these- I haven't read it yet. Forgot all about it." He rooted in his bag for what felt to Harry like an eternity before brandishing a yellowing scroll in the direction of his friends. Harry couldn't help but feel acutely disappointed that it was a scrap of parchment and not something far more interesting. Hermione, on the other hand, looked delighted. She jumped up from her own seat and ran over, hand out to take it from Ron. Obligingly, he handed it over and she moved to the desk Harry was sitting at so that they could all see. Or would have been able to see it, had she been able to unroll the bloody thing. Aiming her wand at the scroll, she muttered every revealing charm and general disarmament spell she could think of until Harry finally took it away from her, fearing for the safety of the desk itself.

"I suppose now would be the time to tell you that, according to Basingstoke, only the council members can open them, eh?" Harry was really, really glad that he wasn't Ron when Hermione turned to glare at the redhead. But that didn't stop him from laughing.

"Why didn't you tell me? You just let me stand her and try all those spells when you knew they wouldn't work? What if I'd damaged it- what would we have done then Ron?" True to form, Ron glared back.

"Maybe I didn't say anything because you just bloody took it upon yourself to read the ruddy thing- you didn't give me the chance to tell you, so _maybe_ I decided to let you find out for your bloody self! And of course you're not going to _damage_ it- this is concord magic, remember? Not likely to be destroyed by a simple charm, eh?" There was real anger in his voice and Hermione, for once, chose to back down instead of goading him further. She even offered a (quiet) apology, which Harry forced Ron to accept before thrusting the scroll at his friend and demanding that he open it. Ron took the parchment with only minor grumbling and gently broke the wax seal. He missed Hermione's scowl. The scroll unfurled easily and rested gently in his hands. He held it so that his friends could read it from their own seats, scanning his eyes quickly across the page. There wasn't much there- just a few lines, and he looked up at the others.

"Well that's fairly straightforward I suppose." It was then that Ron realised his friends were staring at him with _new_ expectant looks on their faces. "What? What's the matter?"

"That might as well be Klingon for all I understand of it Ron- what does it say?" Ron blinked, glancing down at the parchment again and the words that were glittering at him. In English.

"What's Klingon? Is that a language?" Hermione tutted and glared at Harry, who turned a little red. He was usually good at not using muggle terms- at least unless Dean was around.

"It's a Muggle thing Ron- tell us what it says, will you?"

"Eh, well. It's not much really. It says 'Guardian of Gryffindor, be watchful of thine enemies. Your task be perilous and a dark time doth lie ahead.'" He laughed a little "Are you sure you can't read it? It's not exactly world-shattering information here." They both shook their head no. "Well that was a waste of time, I reckon."

"Yeah, pretty much. What about the books he gave you then? Anything interesting in there?" Harry watched as his friend rolled the scroll up carefully, and he waited for a response. Ron simply shrugged again.

"Dunno mate, never even looked at them. We spent most of yesterday trying to decide what we were going to do, and most of today trying to get the bloody in-house councils sorted." He tucked the scroll into his robes and retrieved the pack of sweets. "Ginny got a shiny badge and everything. She has the books too, I think. I'll get them from her later." His eyes widened suddenly. "Bugger! What time is it?" Not waiting for Harry's answer (half past four), Ron rushed to his bag and gathered together everything that he'd thrown _out_ of it in his hurry to find the bloody scroll. "I said I'd meet Ginny and Neville five minutes ago- I'll see you two back in the Tower!" And he was gone, leaving Hermione and Harry to stare at one another, half amused and half exasperated. Well, Harry was amused and Hermione was exasperated. Sighing, she gathered her things and prepared to leave.

"I suppose we should be getting back to the Tower anyway. We have that essay for Snape to start, remember?"

* * *

Dumbledore handed the letter to Fawkes, smiling sadly as the Phoenix thrilled a few notes. The bird disappeared in a bright burst of flame and the headmaster turned to the audience in his office.

"Given the circumstances, we must put our own plans in motion now." There were a few grumbles but nobody challenged his assertion. "It's earlier than we expected, I know, but we remain prepared, nonetheless. That is more than can be said for the last time we faced this same opponent, and we have every reason to believe that we will be successful this time where we were not the last." His words sounded hollow to his own ears, but he knew that there were some in the room that needed to hear them. He needed to hear them himself, he supposed, hollow or not. "You know what you have to do, and there is nothing more to say."

It was a marginally more optimistic group that flooed from his office, leaving the headmaster alone to mull over his latest dilemma. Brow furrowed in concentration, he scribbled a quick note onto a scrap of parchment before moving from his desk toward the staircase.

He must remember that he had a job to do, also, and promises to keep.

* * *

Ron ran to Gryffindor all the way to the tower, eager to get this over and done with, and found Ginny and Neville waiting outside the portrait hole for him- neither of them looking particularly impressed.

"Sorry I'm late." He panted, resting his hands on his knees as he leaned over in an attempt to catch his breath. Ginny scowled at him but he'd known her for long enough to know that she wasn't really angry.

"It's okay Ron, we just got here ourselves." Ginny shot the boy a murderous look but Neville wasn't fazed either. She may have lost her guilt-trip opportunity but Ron looked relieved enough that Neville didn't regret it. Any other time he might have worried about Ginny's potential revenge, but not now. Not when she was too busy worrying about other people's revenge on her.

"Come on then, inside. We have to face the music sometime." Ron turned to the Fat Lady to tell her the password but, to his amazement, the portrait swung open without it. Looking back to Ginny and Neville, he saw the shock on their faces too. That hadn't happened the night before, he didn't think. Then again, the night before it had been all he could do to not fall asleep standing and all the Portrait had wanted to do was talk- she could have been setting fire to her own painting and he wouldn't have noticed.

As he stepped into Gryffindor common room, every eye turned to him and Ron could feel his ears begin to burn. Lavender waved from across the room and shouted out a cheerful greeting and Ron's ears burned redder. She really wasn't helping matters. Everyone else was quiet but the tension in the air was obvious, even to someone as perceptive as Ron.

"I, uh, that is _we_ have a few things to announce. Um, there'll be a house meeting at half five, so if there's anyone missing I'd appreciate it if the prefects could round them up- I'd rather just do this once." There was some muttering after he spoke but Ron chose to ignore it as he led his sister and Neville up the stairs to the sixth year boy's dorm. They needed somewhere private for a while and the girl's dorm was out of the question, for obvious reasons. Not least being Lavender's potential presence.

They were fortunate then, that neither Seamus nor Dean were in the room when they got there. Neville flushed a little and shoved his dirty clothes under the nearest bed with his foot. When he'd imagined a girl seeing his underwear for the first time, said underwear wasn't dirty and on the floor. Ginny, having grown up with six elder brothers, hadn't even noticed. Instead, she flopped onto her stomach on Ron's bed and propped her head up with her hands.

"What's the plan, then? Do we just hide in here until everyone is downstairs?" The boys looked at her for a second before nodding in unison.

"It's not like there's a lot to tell them anyway, and I'm quite happy to hide for as long as no-one interrupts us. I'm glad we got out of there before someone got hexed. I've grown used to my head being on my shoulders, you know?" Ginny laughed darkly, and sat up again, crossing her legs under her this time.

"Do you think we should tell them that if they kill us off then Lavender takes over?" Ron looked horrified.

"It's not Lavender next, is it? Surely there's someone else in between Lavender and us?" His head swung between his first and his second, watching and wincing as they both shook their heads.

"I even owled my Grandmother to ask, Ron. According to her, we're the only ones over ten in the whole house- Lavender is a nine." Ron paled considerably, and sat down suddenly on Harry's bed.

"Merlin, I knew it was bad but I never thought it was that bad- I had hoped there were a few elevens in there, or even a twelve maybe." Ginny laughed again.

"That would be _far_ too easy, brother mine. Nope, it's us or it's Lavender and a bunch of half-bloods. At least the half-bloods know what's going on though, which is more than we can say for Lavender and the Muggleborns." That got a short laugh from the other occupants of the room. "Dean was ready to revolt last night and the rest of the house weren't far behind him." Ron's laughter died in his throat.

"Was it that bad? Harry and Hermione didn't say anything." His sister scowled.

"I told you we had a fight Ron- Neville was there, he can tell you how bad it was if you don't believe me." Ron protested that of course he believed her and she finally agreed to tell him what had happened. Neville, being an only child, marvelled at how they moved from laughter to near-fight and back again with such ease and almost missed what Ginny was saying.

"I'm not surprised they didn't say anything. They're probably hoping that I won't say anything either. It was bad, Ron, really bad. _Percy_ bad. I said some things that I really didn't mean about both of them and they said some things to me that I don't want to repeat. Then some of the others got involved and they were demanding answers about the concord and whining about how unfair this whole thing is." She paused and bit her lip. "I was doing really well until one of the fourth years mentioned Dad and how we don't have any money. I think his exact words were 'Leave the Weasley's their pureblood nonsense. After all, that's all they have.'" Ron tensed with anger, sensitive as ever to any mention of his family's finances. "And then I started hexing people, and everyone went to bed to get away from me."

"And me." Neville added, smiling a little at Ginny. "I threw some curses too, at Harry and Dean. Mostly at Dean, but I hit Harry by accident. He called me a crap wizard." His smile vanished at that and Ron's scowl grew even deeper.

"That's not true Neville and you know it. He didn't mean it either, I'm sure. Dean's not like that." Regardless of what had been said the night before and the fact that she had ignored him that morning, Dean was still her boyfriend and Ginny couldn't help but want to defend him.

"We'll put an end to all this soon enough anyway. They'll have no reason to be mad with _us_ after this evening. Dumbledore and the rest of the houses? Now that's another cauldron of trouble entirely."

The quiet only lasted for a few minutes before it became too much for Ginny. She was a Weasley- they weren't inclined toward silence.

"Hey Ron?" Her brother grunted in response, apparently drifting towards sleep as he lay down. She took that as a 'Yes Ginny? What is it that you want?'

"How did you get up into the girls dorm this morning without the stairs turning into a slide?" There was a beat, just one, before her brother raised his head to meet her eyes.

"What in Merlin's name are you on about, Gin?"

* * *

Molly Weasley had her head in her hands. This wasn't unusual for the mother of seven children, especially the mother of seven magical, trouble-seeking, children. Although, to be fair, only six of them seemed to actively pursue it, the seventh just managed to fall into it. No, it wasn't unusual- in fact, for Molly, it was fast becoming her favourite place to rest her head. She was sitting at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, doing her best to pretend that the children were all at home, safe and sound, and that when she looked up she wouldn't see her husband sitting across from her, looking as depressed as he had after his brother Bilius died. As it turned out, thinking about Bilius hadn't helped at all. Given what her eldest boys had volunteered to do, what they were leaving to do, thinking about one of the ones that would never be back wasn't going to do any good.

Sniffling a little she looked up at Arthur and, sure enough, he wore the blank look she hated to see. The one that meant something really bad had happened. Or was about to happen, maybe. Bill had slung his arm around his father's shoulders just as Charlie had with her, but Arthur didn't look like he was getting any more comfort from the gesture than she was.

"Promise me something, will you?" She hardly recognised her own voice when she spoke, only knowing it was her because her boys turned to look at her. Even Arthur gazed at her, something sparking briefly in his eyes.

"What, mum?" Charlie's breath tickled her ear and she fought the urge to laugh, knowing that it would turn to tears. She was afraid that if she started to cry, she might never stop.

"Promise me that you'll come home again. Promise me that you're both going to outlive me." The only sound in the silence was their breathing, deep and heavy with expectation.

"I wish we could, Mum. I wish we could."

* * *

A/N: Two updates in two days. You've been spoiled. Spoiled, I tells ya.


	8. Ugly

Disclaimer: I want my very own HP universe, where I can play with the characters and pretend to be JK. Oh wait, that's why I write Fanfic. Sweet. But I still own nothing.

Apologies for the wait- my muse hasn't been around for quite some time. The following may be a bit... odd. Please let me know what you think!

* * *

"Is that it?" Bill peered distrustfully into the swirling liquid. He sounded throughly unimpressed. Charlie snorted and smacked his brother across the back of his head.

"That's it. Remus and Moody brought it from Hogwarts this morning- apparently the Headmaster will be happier to have it out of the school during this 'troublesome time'. Bit of an understatement there, if you ask me, but then Dumbledore is the boss so I reckon nobody'll be asking me anytime soon." Bill caught the bitterness in his brother's voice, and glanced over his shoulder with a look of concern on his face.

"You really miss the dragons already, don't you?" There was sympathy in his voice too. He understood what it meant to give up something you desperately wanted for the good of the cause. But Bill's sacrifice was tall, blonde and far more vocal about being sacrificed than Charlie's dragons were. The younger of the two nodded slowly, making an unhappy face.

"I just wish sometimes that we weren't in so deep in all this." He took a deep breath before blowing it back out, noisily. "We're the Weasleys- we're expected to show up and fight, even as everyone else stands by and pretends that You-Know-Who will go away if we wish hard enough." His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, "Sometimes I wonder if Percy had the right idea- calling us all idiots and leaving." Bill chuckled darkly, gesturing to the pensieve on the table-top.

"If he could see us now, he'd be laughing his ass off. He was right; we do what Dumbledore tells us to do, no questions asked." Charlie looked surprised, a little, at his brother's words. "But that doesn't mean that the old man is crazy- or even wrong. We're Weasleys. That means we'll do what has to be done, even if everyone else is living in denial." He laughed again, throwing his arm around Charlie's shoulder. "They can thank us after it's all over, yeah? Now let's get cracking on this- we don't have all day before Mum starts hollering at us to clean something. Or worse, _cook_ something." He shuddered dramatically and Charlie cracked a smile, leaning forward to the pooled memories and reaching out one hand.

"Come on then. What are you waiting for? The horcruxes to come find us?"

Together, the brothers reached into the pensieve and were pulled away, through time and memory into the living room of one Hepzibah Smith.

* * *

There was an eerie silence in the Gryffindor common room, broken only by the sounds of shuffling feet and moving chairs. Unusually, every single Gryffindor was in attendance- rooted to the spot and nervously awaiting the re-emergence of their new Council. Harry and Hermione had fought their way through the crowd about ten minutes after Ron had arrived, and had scared some first years off their favourite, fireside, chairs. Given the uncomfortable heat of the packed common room, Hermione was beginning to wonder if sitting next to the roaring fire had been a bad idea. She pulled at her shirt collar, trying to get some relief from the heat crawling up her back, but kept her gaze firmly on the stairway to the boys dorms. It seemed that everyone was staring that way- all she could see in her line of sight were the backs of her housemate's heads. Everyone except Harry and Dean. Those two, she knew, were sprawled on the couch behind her, playing the muggle game thumb wars as quietly as they could. The air was thick and warm and tense and she couldn't help but feel sick to her stomach. Something was telling her that regardless of what Ron had promised, that whatever happened was going to be ugly.

The silence was broken eventually by the creaking an upstairs door, followed by the slow trooping of three pairs of feet. Ginny emerged first, startled to see all the eyes on her, and was closely followed by her brother and Neville, both of whom ignored the people staring except for varying degrees of blush.

Ron coughed, clearing his throat, and stepped in front of the others.

"Okay, listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once: I don't care who your parents are. I don't care what your heritage is, and I don't give a monkey's about what colour your blood is." There were some- very audible- sighs of relief, and Ron couldn't help but feel a tiny trickle of indignation. He had never acted the part of Pureblood hypocrite, that they would expect worse from him, had he? He pushed it down, resolving to vent at someone later but not now. _Definitely_not now. "What I do care about is Gryffindor house and what this new... development, lets say... means for us." A few people snickered at that, and one voice muttered a nearly inaudible "What it means for_us_, you mean" which he chose to ignore.

"I'm sure you've all been filled in on what it means for the school- the councils will have absolute rule over their houses, and everyone will be expected to obey the rules they set. This council intends to set only one rule: What happens in Gryffindor stays in Gryffindor." He cast his gaze around the crowd, reading the anxiety in the eyes gazing back at him. "What I mean is..." He sighed, glancing to his sister for encouragement, which she provided with a warm smile and a gesture to get on with it. "There are those in the school that would be only too delighted to know exactly what is going on in here; to hear exactly how we've been fighting with ourselves. I swear to Merlin, if I so much as hear a _rumour_ that any of you have told anyone else what goes on in here from now on, I'll hex you into oblivion myself, got it?" Around him, heads nodded, unsure but agreeing.

Ron sighed loudly, just relieved that no-one had hit him yet.

"Apart from that, we answer to McGonagall as our head of house, and to the prefects and the Heads as usual, got it? I'm well on board with the idea of pretending that none of this is happening, alright?" A few more head nodded at that.

"Any questions?" And almost every hand was raised. _Crap_.

"Okay, starting on my right- you're Melinda, yeah? Fire ahead." The tiny blonde girl standing closest to him looked startled, and squeaked a little. Everyone laughed, easing some of the tension even as she blushed and Ron encouraged her to speak up. His less mature side was laughing at her too, but only on the inside.

"Um. I was just wondering, well, why is it that you, Ginny and Neville were chosen? I don't really understand." Other voices backed up her request, echoing her words. Disbelief was written on Ron's face as he turned to Ginny.

"Do you really not explain anything before you started hexing people?" His words were quiet, meant for her ears only, and she blushed a little and shook her head.

"Alright then- here goes." Scratching his head, he aimed his wand behind him and conjured a blackboard. "This is going to get complicated, so stop me if you get confused, okay? And if I get confused, everyone else can please feel free to jump in." There were several laughs from the assembled crowd, and the tension in the air dropped another notch. "There is a system of points assigned to every witch and wizard, right? Depending on how _Pure_ their blood is, okay? The highest any one wizard or witch can get is fifteen, okay? Ginny and I are both 15, and Neville is 14, which is why we've been chosen by the bloody concord." He took a deep breath, and turned to the blackboard, using his wand to write the number 15 on one side of the board. "Muggleborns, according to this system, have zero points." The figure 0 appeared on the other side of the board. "When a witch or wizard is born, their own points are calculated using the points their parents had- so if Neville had a child with a Muggleborn, the child would be a 7, a halfblood, because 14 and 0 is 14, and half of that is 7. Everyone with me?" Most of the crowd nodded, even as the number 7 appeared on the board.

"Now, a wizard is-" His sister's pointed cough meant he amended the statement with a hastily added "Or a witch, sorry, is considered a Pureblood as soon as they hit 11 points, which would take at least two generations from the first introduction of a Muggleborn to the family, because the first generation would have a maximum of seven and a half points, and the second could reach 11.25 if the 7 married a 15, okay?" He could see some blank, confused faces staring back at him and cast a helpless glance at his sister. She just shrugged and waved him on. They'd warned everyone that it would get complicated.

The board had updated the figures as he'd been speaking, adding numbers to each side. He briefly wondered if that were making it more or less confusing.

"So, if two halfbloods were to have children, their children would be halfbloods?" It was Melinda who spoke, emboldened perhaps by having been the first to ask a question. Ron nodded, relieved that someone seemed to be getting it.

"Exactly. And if a Halfblood were to have children with a Muggleborn, the points would drop to 3.5, okay?" He made a face "But if they were to marry a _Muggle_, the children would automatically only be a 1, for whatever reason. The same goes for Squibs born to any magical family- they automatically drop to a 1." Seamus made a sound of protest- perhaps the only one there whose Witch mother had married a Muggle, and Ron acknowledged it with a nod of his head. "However, those children can earn back two extra points by being Wizard-raised, leaving them at a potential score of 3." More blank stares. "See? I said it was weird."

"So how come you and Ginny are 15 then?" Harry asked, his voice clear across the room. Ron blushed.

"Ah, well. See... if your family goes back a certain distance on either side, you get an extra half point. We can do it on both, so we get a whole extra point. You probably have that half-point too, Harry, from the Potter side, but I'm not sure." He reddened a little more. "I never really studied all this rubbish, so I'm not as sure of it all as some of the other council members." He said 'other council members' but everyone _heard_'Draco Malfoy'. "So does that make it any clearer?"

"Oh aye, it's as clear as dirty water now, where before it was muck. Thanks mate." Seamus' dry sarcastic voice floated over the crowd and there were a few more giggles, for which Ron was grateful.

"Okay, next question?" All the arms raised again, and Ron picked the boy- a second or third year, he thought,- standing next to Melinda.

"What's going to happen to the school?" The boy glanced around him, nervous, and took a deep breath even as Ron remembered that his name was Michael. "Everyone was saying that we- the Muggleborns I mean- are going to be in loads of trouble now, and that we might have to go home." A mutter of discontent rippled through the students and Ron almost snapped an answer.

"No-one is going home! Hogwarts is still the safest place you could be, alright? This thing could even be good for Gryffindors in the long run- we're going to be better protected with this in place than we were bef-"

"Pull the other one, Weasley! On what planet could this ever be considered a _good_ thing? Half this bloody school are Muggleborns and Halfbloods- the twos and three on your bloody scale of wizarding brilliance. Is that how we're supposed to define ourselves from now on?" Dean's voice was loud, clear and unfortunately mocking. "Shall I introduce myself as that from now on? _Hi, my name is Dean and I'm a zero_." His tone did nothing to conceal his anger and bitterness. "I've had enough of that growing up- I'm not going to put up with it now, alright?" Ron wasn't sure what that meant, but he wasn't going to give in either.

"Not like that, you great prat. What I meant was that..." He paused for second, trying to gather his thoughts, "... that we can keep everything we do a secret now and no-one can expect us to tell them anything."

"But that works the other way too, doesn't it Ron? The other houses can keep secrets now, and there's no way that we can know what they're up to." Silence fell at Hermione's words, and everyone watched as Ron nodded.

"That's true- but that's not our problem right now, Hermione. We need to focus on Gryffindor, and on not letting this get the better of us. We're meant to be brave; to be ready to fight for what's right-"

"And equality isn't right? Being equal isn't worth fighting for?" She sounded incredulous, and just a tiny bit disappointed.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" He was angry, but Ginny could hear the hurt in his voice, even as she recognised indignation on Hermione's face. The rest of Gryffindor, well used to the fights between the pair, stepped back a little from them both and prepared to evacuate if the room caught fire. "We need to stay united on this- to be one united front instead of fighting each other. I've said I don't believe in any of this and I mean it! I don't give a bollocks about it but I'm not the one who made the rules, Hermione!" She scoffed, rising from her seat. The crowd between herself and Ron parted as one, allowing her to approach him unhindered. Ginny met Harry's eyes across the crowd for the first time since their own fight the night before, and they both winced. This was not going to be pretty.

"You're making the rules now though, aren't you? I've read all about what this Concord was intended for, and you know what? I'm thinking that the repression of Muggleborns should be something that you're willing to fight against, instead of just happily accepting the whole thing!" He coloured even more, if that's possible, and she took a few more steps toward him.

"What the hell does that even _mean_? In case you've forgotten, I'm a blood traitor! My whole family are seen as traitors by every Blood-obsessed Wand-Wielder."

"That's beside the point Ron, and you know it. You didn't say no: you didn't speak up and say that this isn't right. What are we supposed to think?" Her eyes flashed, and Roncouldn't recall ever seeing her look angrier.

"Oh, and I'm expected to be the great brave Gryffindor hero? Since when? Newsflash Hermione- I didn't ask for this and I sure as hell don't want it. But do you know what the other options are?" He sounded really, really angry.

"No, but I'm sure you'll explain them to me. Be sure to use small words- I'm Muggleborn, I might not understand your technical Wizarding terms." The bitterness in her voice betrayed her real fear- the one that had been rooted since her very first day of Hogwarts, when Draco Malfoy and his Pureblood friends had dismissed her as less than nothing because of her birth. It had hurt her greatly then, and it still hurt some now, not that she would ever admit to it.

"The only other option we have is dissolution- or didn't you read about that? It's this- it's me, Ginny and Neville,- or it's the end of Gryffindor and resorting for the lot of you. Is that what you want? Would you like to finally be a Ravenclaw, seeing as Gryffindor is obviously not good enough for you any more? It'd have to be Ravenclaw, cos you don't seem to have the loyalty for Hufflepuff." His first words shocked her into silence, and the last ones stung in a way that only Ron had ever managed. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

Ginny felt herself move forward, pulling her brother back from where he'd been almost touching his bushy haired friend, and she was speaking before she even started to think.

"Yeah, that's right Hermione- it's us or oblivion. Or didn't you learn that in the books you stole from me last night?" Her own anger rose as the other girl blanched, guilt etched in her features.

"I didn't... I mean, I didn't steal them. I was going to give them back." Her words sounded weak even to her own ears, and a chorus of exclamations rose around her.

"You had all day to leave them back Hermione, and you didn't bother. You eavesdropped on a private conversation, you stole from me, and now you accuse _my_brother,_your_ best friend, of not standing up for you? Why the hell should he, if you're just going to stab him in the back?" Her words were almost a growl by the end, and Ron was the one holding her back. Obviously, she was angrier about the whole 'missing ancient tombs' scenario than he'd realised.

"Come on Gin, that's not-"

He was cut off, whatever he was going to say lost forever as Dean Thomas stood up on the fireside table and shouted "Oi! Muggleborns!" at the top of his voice. All eyes turned to him.

"I say we object to being second class citizens in our own school. I say, we challenge this bloody system the same way we're handled everything else since we got to this school- with the courage that Gryffindor's are famed for! Are you lot willing to just lie down an accept all this?" There was an echoing of angry voices, all agreeing with Dean, and the crowds began to mutter in harsh tones. Hermione, standing in the middle of it all, could only turn to Ron and mutter a quiet apology. But Ron wasn't listening to Hermione- Ron, along with his second and third, were staring toward the fireplace with horror-stricken expressions on their faces. She spun on on heel, just fast enough to see the flames dart from the fire and embrace the standing figure of Dean Thomas.

He had a second to look shocked before the fire caught hold, and then he screamed.

* * *

A/N: Questions? Criticism? Comments? 


	9. Lessons

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far- you guys really provided the kickstart to get this going again.

Disclaimer: I am not a multimillionaire. Therefore, my chances of owning this franchise are several limited.

* * *

McGonagall was making her usual evening rounds, walking briskly past the entrance to Gryffindor tower when all hell broke loose, and her quiet evening's contemplation was ruined. A small crowd of Gryffindors caught up to her in the corridor, grabbing at her robes and shouting at her to hurry, that something terrible had happened. Exactly what, they didn't pause to tell her, but she gathered it must be really bad because of the terror clearly written on their faces. Stepping through the portrait-hole, the first thing that hit her was the unmistakable smell of burning hair- years of teaching magic to the likes of Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan and the Weasley twins meant she was very familiar with the scent. The entire house was assembled, it seemed, crowded around the fireplace and each student wore a look of abject horror.

"Would someone care to explain what exactly is going on here?" Her voice carried well across the crowd and a good number of the students turned to face her. The three who'd assaulted her outside took hold of her again and dragged her forward- actions that she would surely protest against later, in private detention with each of them- and she caught her first glimpse of the problem. Ron and Ginny Weasley were kneeling on the floor, casting spells with startling speed and ferocity, something that she hadn't been expecting. Neville was standing above them, biting his lip and looking nervous and to their left, Harry was holding Hermione up- she looked pale enough to faint, but then so did a large number of the others.

"Dammit!" Ron exclaimed,shifting a little on the floor so the Deputy Headmistress could finally see what it was they were doing. The shape on the floor didn't register with her properly for a few seconds, not until Ginny cast another furious healing spell and shouted a loud,

"Merlin be buggered Dean, wake up!" Her brother muttered several words under his breath and finally looked up to see her standing above him. She was surprised to see tear tracks on his cheeks, but the look he gave her was hopeful.

"We need to get him to the infirmary Professor- right now. Could you... ?" And he gestured to the boy. Unthinking, McGonagall waved her wand and Dean rose into the air as if suspended by ropes.

"Out of my way children, out of my way!" And the crowd parted, letting them through. The Weasleys were at the boy's side all the way, casting and recasting the cooling spells and the healing spells that she knew were necessary. As they were leaving, Ron only glanced back once, calling to Neville that he was in charge until they got back, they were all to stay where they were and that no-one was to do anything stupid. He sounded furious.

* * *

It was only when Dean was in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey and well on the way to recovery that McGonagall turned to her two ashen-faced students and demanded an explanation.

"I'm not sure what happened Professor." Ron's voice was dull and his eyes lacked their trademark Weasley sparkle. Ginny, sitting next to him, had her arms wrapped securely around her legs in the ultimate comfort position. "He was upset; going on about fighting the new system and then... I didn't see it coming- it just..."

"The fire reached out and ate him." If Ron had been dull, Ginny's voice was lifeless. "It reached out on its own and grabbed onto him and wouldn't let go." Her brother nodded miserably in agreement.

Reeling, she reached out for the nearest bed to steady her. She'd expected spells gone bad, maybe a miscast hex. This was worse.

"Will he be okay?" In her muddled state, she couldn't say for sure which sibling had spoken.

"He will, thanks to you two." It was Poppy who answered, her attention fixed on the children in front of her. "You saved his life, with your quick thinking. It's not everyone that would know to apply those charms- you should be proud of yourselves. He'll be shook up, no doubt, but he should make a full recovery by next week." Pomfrey had seen the Weasley clan come through her wing often enough to know that anyone who spent a large amount of time with the Fred and George was usually well prepared for a medical emergency. But Ron choked on a laugh in response, ignoring her praise.

"Well, it was the least I could do, wasn't it? Seeing as how the whole thing was my fault in the first place." McGonagall snapped back to herself at that- the defeat in his voice.

"None of that nonsense Weasley. This was bound to happen eventually, as we adjust to the new system. You heard what Madam Pomfrey said, and the boy will be fine." He stood up suddenly, and met her gaze with his own angry one.

"If this is what the new system is going to mean- the castle attacking one of her own whenever they disagree with the bloody concord, then I'm not sure we should even be here! I told them earlier, _I told them_, that Hogwarts is the safest place they could be but that's not true anymore, is it? Not if she's going to do things like this!" He started to pace, striding rapidly across the floor to the door and back again, muttering under his breath and for once, McGonagall didn't know what to say.

It was the arrival of the Headmaster that broke the tension, pushing the door open quietly in a way that seemed very undramatic for the usually flamboyant wizard.

"Ronald? Ginevra? Could you step outside for a moment please?" They did as they were told, both casting glances back at their friend- and Ginny's boyfriend- several times before the door swung shut.

* * *

Outside in the drafty hall, Ginny shivered and Ron resumed his pacing.

"What are we going to do Gin? We can't let anything like this happen again. Next time, there might be nobody there who knows the charms." She nodded, biting her lip in concentration.

"Or it might not be a fire the next time- it could be the walls; the stairs or the suits of armor for all we know. The whole castle is infused with this Ron, and you know our lot- they're far too likely to get themselves in more trouble. Merlin above, the castle would probably attack us if she thought we were trying to disobey." At her words, Ron stopped pacing and looked up to meet her eyes.

"Maybe." He didn't sound convinced. "Either way, we need to get everyone to agree on something, fast, or it really will be the end of Gryffindor. I'll send them all home myself before I let someone die because of this."

"A wise sentiment, Mr. Weasley. Very wise indeed." The headmaster had crept up on them, somehow, and was peering over his half-moon glasses at Ron. "If you would both follow me, please?"

Obedient but nervous, the siblings trooped after him, covering the distance to his office in silence.

"Gumdrops" Dumbledore muttered, and the statue marking his office sprang aside revealing the stairs beyond. He preceded them upward, pushing the door open ahead of them and was seated behind his desk by the time the door closed after Ron. Dumbledore gestured absently toward the chairs opposite his own and they sat. Ron forced himself not to fidget, but Ginny was listless in her seat, her mind replaying over and over Dean's burnt body. And his face... Merlin, his _face._ She shuddered, just thinking about it, and tried in vain to push the memory out of her head. _Madam Pomfrey said that he'll make a full recovery. He'll be fine. __There won't even be any scarring, I bet._ She turned her gaze to Fawkes to distract herself, concentrating intently on the bright feathers and hoping that whatever it was Dumbledore wanted would be over soon, so she could get back to the hospital wing.

"Ronald, Ginevra, I'm going to be honest with you." His voice was serious, but it was the words that caught both of their attention. Dumbledore, honest? Ron frowned. "This concord, the enactment of the treaty after so long... it is indeed a worrying thing." He paused and met both of their gazes before continuing. "What do you know about the old magics?" The Weasley's exchanged a glance before Ginny answered.

"As much as any other Wizard-raised, I suppose. Maybe less." For some reason, that seemed to amuse him, but Ron couldn't begin to imagine why.

"When magic is very old, and very strong, one of two things can happen to it. It can fade, becoming less than a shadow of itself." He paused again and if Ron were less generous he may have thought that the pause was merely for dramatic effect. "Or it can strengthen over time, waiting for the opportunity to fulfill its purpose. That is, unfortunately, the scenario we are facing today. The magic has lain dormant for a very long time, waiting for it's chance to escape and growing more powerful all the time." He grimaced. "As we saw with Mr. Thomas, it doesn't seem to take kindly to criticism and that makes it all the more dangerous."

Neither Ginny or Ron really knew quite how to respond to that.

"Any ideas on how to stop it then?" Of course, Ron had always hated an awkward silence. Dumbledore chuckled, albeit a little darkly.

"I'm afraid the castle has sealed herself off from me, Ronald. She no longer recognises me as the Headmaster of the school, and as such will not heed me in the least. I would ask that you keep that piece of information to yourselves, however." Ginny agreed quickly but her brother was slow to follow suit, caught deep in thought, which was admittedly unusual for the youngest Weasley boy.

"She recognises us though, doesn't she? That's what this is all about, right? Getting us to realise that the castle will listen to us if we talk to her. And hopefully, not in a creepy burn-your-friend-to-death kind of way?" Something struck him then, and he glanced up to find the headmaster's gaze intent on him, something shining in those old blue eyes. "Do the others know this? Has she done anything like this in any of the other houses?" The headmaster didn't respond in the least, but something shifted in his expression that Ron took as a no. His sister missed the change in expression, but was quick to catch on to the conversation.

"Would she listen more to us than to say, Malfoy, if we figured out how to talk to her faster?" This time, the change on the old wizard's face was slightly more readable- almost a nod. Almost.

"Well, it's been lovely to have you both, and I'm sure that you're both eager to get on with your evening. Do call by again." He stood, his brilliantly magenta robes swirling as he ushered them out of his office and down the stairs. "I trust you both know what you have to do." The door closed, and he was gone.

Ginny snorted.

"I always thought Harry was being a bit of a brat when he said that Dumbledore was cryptic, but what the hell was that all about? I think I owe the boy an apology." Ron nodded grimly.

"But we know what we have to do, at least. Let's go check on Dean and then we need to get back to the common room. I have a feeling that Neville might be needing us."

* * *

Neville didn't exactly _need_ them, but he found himself fervently wishing that the red-headed siblings were present. He wasn't comfortable with attention on a good day, and today was anything but a good day. He was sitting with Harry and Hermione, as far away from the fireplace as they could get, and he was doing his best to ignore the stares and the whispers. The atmosphere was less tense than earlier, but certainly more afraid. Who dared speak now, when they'd seen what could happen? It wasn't until his stomach started growling that he realised he'd missed dinner- Ron and Ginny too, as they'd been hiding in the boy's dorm at the time. He muttered an apology to the others, but neither even acknowledged it, locked away in their own thoughts. His stomach growled again and Neville stood up slowly, making his way to the portrait hole, intent on going to the kitchens to beg the house elves for food.

"Where are you going?" Lavender demanded, her voice shrill and piercing. Neville winced, and turned to face her.

"I, uh. I'm hungry. I was going to get some dinner."

"You're thinking about _food_ when Dean could be _dying_?" It was Parvati who spoke this time, her words laced with venom that Neville wasn't sure he deserved.

"I'm just hungry, I missed dinner." They both scoffed, and Lavender sneered.

"You'll survive without one meal, I'm sure." She eyed him up and down for good measure, sneer growing even as she did. He reddened even more, mortified as everyone turned to stare at him. He was used to Lavender's cutting remarks- she'd never been fond of him,- but he was a little surprised by Parvati's joining in. "Anyway, Ron said we were all to stay here, so we should stay here." She added, looking just a little smug as Neville regained his seat. Her words though, were enough to bring Hermione back to reality.

"Ron also said that Neville was in charge while he was gone, so by your logic, you should be shutting up and letting him do whatever he wants." She turned to Neville and smiled, just a little. "You want some company going to the kitchens, Neville?" Neville was usually grateful to Hermione for her constant support, but he couldn't help but feel even more embarrassed that he was being defended by a _girl._ Even if said girl was the cleverest witch of their age. He didn't say anything though- did he ever?- just shook his head and slouched down in his seat, ignoring his aching stomach. The common room was silent, each student locked up in their own thoughts and the only conversations were quiet and short. Everyone seemed unwilling to leave the common room, preferring to stay with the crowd rather than separate, and the first years weren't the only ones casting suspicious glances at the fireplace, as if expecting it to attack again.

"We should go check on Dean." Harry finally said, the worry in his voice evident to everyone who could hear him. Seamus and Hermione were quick to agree and the three of them stood up and crossed the common room quickly. Lavender opened her mouth to protest, but the death-glare Hermione meant she quickly snapped it shut again.

It wasn't until they reached the portrait hole that they realised there was a problem- it wouldn't open. Harry pushed hard, and Seamus helped him, and Hermione tried every spell she knew to get it open but to no avail. The portrait was jammed shut and would not budge.

Confused, everyone looked to Hermione for an answer, but she was busily firing spells at the door, getting more and more frustrated as she did.

"What was the last thing Ron said before he left?" The tiny first year, Melinda, piped up, and even Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

He'd told them to stay where they were. And now they couldn't leave. Neville tried to shrink back into himself as everyone turned to him. For a group so reluctant to accept the new order, they were happy enough to turn to him- or _on_ him, perhaps- when they needed something.

"Can you try it Neville? See if you can get out, at least?" Seamus asked, even as Harry tried pushing the portrait again. Uncomfortable, he crossed to where his friends were standing and reached out one hand. He didn't even have to touch it before the portrait swung outward freely and he stepped outside, glad of the cooler air in the hallway. Seamus, eager to get an update on his best mate, eagerly leapt after him only to find the painting snap shut in his face, leaving Neville alone in the darkened corridor.

The Gryffindor boy blinked once and contemplated the doorway. The fat lady eyed him from her perch in the painting.

"Are you going in again, or are you going to let them out?" She demanded, and he shrugged.

"Can I let them out?" He asked, and she looked confused. Or, as confused as a portrait can look. He heard her mutter "Good question" before he gave the password and she swung outward once more. This time, Seamus managed to get out the doorway in time, but Neville made sure to keep his hand on the edge of the doorway at all times- he just hoped that Seamus didn't notice. Harry and Hermione followed the Irish boy out, but no-one else made a move to leave, instead turning away from the doorway and back to their gloomy contemplations. Shrugging his shoulders again, Neville let the door snap shut and followed the others towards the hospital wing.

* * *

Lethe Basingstoke was, to everyone who knew him well, an incredibly patient man. There was a story- be it an urban myth or not- within the IWF of a stakeout he'd once been part of. It was said that he'd waited for three days and four nights in a dank, dark foxhole waiting to meet a contact from the black market in Munich. In planning and execution, it was said that there was no better agent to have on your side. It might have surprised many of his colleagues to hear that he was easily bored and more easily distracted. Currently, he was studying the maps of the school that the Headmaster had provided, attempting to memorize the layout. He'd attended Durmstrang as a student and as a result had very little knowledge of Hogwarts and her grounds.

It was a welcome relief when a knock sounded on his door, but he made his way to answer it slowly, refusing to show it. The tiny charms professor greeted him with a solemn nod and Basingstoke accepted the parchment from him with barely concealed excitement.

"This was delivered to the school for you, Mr. Basingstoke, and the Headmaster asked that I deliver it." The tiny man made a face. "He also asked that I inform you of some worrying developments within Gryffindor house. Apparently, one of the students was harmed in some way by the castle herself. The Headmaster assures us all that this will not happen again, but he also warns that we remain vigilant." Flitwick nodded slowly and spun on one heel to leave.

"Is the student in question a Muggleborn, by any chance?" Basingstoke asked, his voice casual.

"Yes, as it happens, he is." Flitwick didn't look back, but the coldness in his voice spoke volumes about his disapproval.

Carefully, the IWF representative closed his door and pressed his back against it. A tiny smile danced on the edge of his lips, even as he raised the letter into his line of sight and began to read. It had started.

* * *


	10. Missing

Firstly, thanks again to everyone who has reviewed, I really appreciate it.

Secondly, I still don't own Harry Potter or any of his friends.

And Thirdly, I do apologise for how _slowly_ this story seems to be progressing. But we'll get somewhere, eventually. I promise!

* * *

Dean was sleeping- blissful unconsciousness bestowed by a Dreamless Sleep Potion- when the Weasley's returned to check on him. Madam Pomfrey let them see him for themselves, but then kicked them out, refusing to heed Ginny's protests and Ron's pleas. For the second time in an hour, they found themselves thrown out of the hospital wing. 

"Time to face the music, then?" Their enthusiasm was notable in it's absence as they walked slowly back toward Gryffindor tower, silent for the most part. So they heard the oncoming footsteps from several corridors away. Ginny almost grinned, 

"Methinks I hear the sound of approaching Gryffindors." Her brother almost smiled in return. Gryffindors were known as brave and courageous. But also generally loud, and not at all subtle. 

As the siblings rounded the next corner, their housemates came into view. Harry and Seamus were almost running, followed closely by Hermione, with Neville lingering behind them, seemingly talking to himself. 

Ginny waved from a distance and the boys slowed to a stop, and immediately began questioning her. In the seconds it took Ron and Ginny close the distance between them, Neville had caught up and was eager to hear word of his friend also.

"Is he okay? Will he be okay? Can we see him?" Seamus demanded. 

"Madam Pomfrey says that he'll be fine, that he'll make a full recovery." The relief was obvious on each face, and for a second Ginny thought Seamus was going to cry. There were definitely tears in Hermione's eyes.

"Can we see him?" Seamus' voice cracked a little.

"He's asleep right now- Pomfrey would only let us in for a second." The boy's face fell and Ron felt a surge of pity for him. If this were Harry or Hermione, he'd be desperate to make sure that they were okay- he'd need to see them for himself. Hell, he'd done it often enough to know that. "But we can always ask again, yeah?" Ginny grabbed Seamus by the arm and dragged him back to the hospital, Neville following them closely, eager to get away from Ron and Hermione before anything started. 

They stood a few feet apart, avoiding looking at each other, with Harry standing between them looking nervous. He was used to being stuck between them, but he wasn't used to not being sure which of them was to blame. He bit back a frown as he realised that it was usually _Ron _who was to blame, which made this experience a new one. 

"So, uh, we couldn't get out of the Tower after you left. Neville had to hold the door open for us." Ron groaned and he paled a little. His freckles seemed to glow in the half-light of the corridor and to Harry's eyes he looked ill and tired but he could, and did, still curse like a Muggle sailor. Hermione bit her tongue to stop herself from scolding him for his language, nearly afraid to speak at all. Ron's tirade finally ended and the trio fell back into an awkward silence, Hermione shooting shy glances at her redheaded friend and Ron seemingly lost in his own thoughts. They stood that way for several moments, before Ron finally snapped back to reality, and cleared his throat to speak.

"Right, uh." He glanced around them, frowning in a suspicious manner. "The headmaster seems to think that this is just the beginning and that things are going to get worse." He stopped and risked a glance at Hermione. "I need to... I mean, are you guys are on my side in this or is this just too much? I'm not asking you to be excited, yeah, but I..." He trailed off, and Harry had to strain to hear his friend's next words. "... I need you two to trust me." 

"Of course we trust you mate." His own voice was stronger than Ron's, but weighted with emotion. How could Ron think they didn't trust him? 

Of course, it didn't help matters that Harry's was the only voice reassuring his friend. Hermione said nothing, staring resolutely at the ground.

"Thanks mate. That means a lot."Ron tried to hide it, but his voice revealed his disappointment. "I'll see you back in the tower, yeah? Can't leave everyone locked up in there for too long." Sidestepping Hermione, he was gone before Harry could say anything more than goodbye. As soon as Ron was out of earshot, Harry turned to Hermione, confusion and anger written across his face- a look Harry had long since mastered. 

"What the hell, Hermione? Whats going on?" She glanced up, guilt stricken.

"I just couldn't say it, Harry. I couldn't. It's not that I don't trust him, really, its just that..." She bit her lip in concentration, "I don't trust that he won't let this change him- it's already happening, Harry, and I couldn't lie to him." She made the words sound as if the_lying_ to him would be the worst crime. Harry's eyes widened, and his tone reflected disbelief.

"You don't trust _Ron? _I have Voldemort living in my head and you've always trusted me, but you won't trust Ron because he's on some bloody council?"

"That's not what I said Harry and you know it! This 'bloody council', as you so elegantly put it, is incredibly dangerous and we know next to nothing about it, and understand even less." If he'd been a braver man he might have commented on her tiny pout. "And your situation is completely different so it's not fair to compare." She added, as an afterthought.

"Oh, and not trusting Ron is fair, is it? Merlin Hermione, we just watched Dean get toasted and roasted, and you're punishing _Ron_ for that? He can't help the way he was born, just like the rest of us." Harry, used to being quick to anger these days, was amazed that he hadn't raised his voice.

"You don't understand, Harry, and I don't expect you to. You and Ron have always been very close, so perhaps you can't see what the danger is. But I do, and I won't sugarcoat the truth for him, or for you."

She looked distracted, and that only served to annoy him more, and he barely bit back the question of when Hermione had _ever_ sugarcoated the truth. Instead, he decided to just let it go; live to fight the fight another day. Fighting with Hermione made him tired.

"Yeah, right, whatever. Come on, let's go see Dean." Of course, as soon as he'd decided to take the high road, he changed his mind. "Unless of course you'd rather not be anywhere near Ginny and Neville? I mean, they're obviously untrustworthy." She snapped her head up to glare at him briefly, before turning on her heel and storming off in the direction of Gryffindor tower.

"Bloody women" He muttered, turning to follow his friends. No matter what Hermione said, Ron was his best mate and Harry could trust him with his life. 

Right?

* * *

They'd been knocking for several minutes before Madam Pomfrey finally opened the door to the hospital wing. Ginny couldn't help but wonder why it had been locked in the first place, but the scowl on the Nurse's face when she saw them was enough to ensure that she didn't ask. It had only been a few minutes since the Weasley siblings had left, but something had obviously happened to ruin Pomfrey's mood- she had been cheerful enough, not so long ago.

"Uh, can we see Dean please? Just for a minute- I need to see with my own eyes that he's alright." Seamus used the pleading tone that usually worked on McGonagall, but to no avail. 

"What is it about the boy needing his rest that you children find so hard to understand? He'll be fine in a day or two, and you can come see him them. Good evening." And for the second time that evening, a door slammed shut in Seamus' face.

"Well that was rude." He commented, glancing between the other two. "Any suggestions as to how we get in there, with her guarding the door like that?" 

"I say we leave it be Seamus. Ginny saw him, so we know he's okay at least. Madam Pomfrey doesn't seem to be in a good mood at all, and I'd rather not have her angry with us." Neville's face was nervous, but his voice sounded calm enough. The Irish boy nodded slowly, stepping away from the door and smiling shakily.

"I reckon you're right mate. She looked well pissed off, didn't she? Wonder who got her panties in a bunch." He made a face at the mental image his words had conjured, before draping his arm over Ginny's shoulder. "Come on GinGin, lets get back to the common room and share the joy, yeah?" She slipped out from beneath his arm easily, poking him in the side good-naturedly. 

"Unless you want to wake up in the bed next to Dean's, you'd better remember to never call me _GinGin_ again, right?" Her words, as laced with scorn as they were, could have been taken as a threat, but she didn't realise that until it was too late. Thankfully, Seamus had a sense of humour about it, so relieved that Dean was going to be okay that he either didn't notice or chose not to comment.

"Whatever you say GinGin. Your wish is my command; your desire is my delight; your smile is my sunshine." He wouldn't stop gushing until she pushed him into the wall, and then he only stopped gushing to laugh at her 'weak little girl-arms'. The trio made steady progress back to the tower, Neville happy to listen to the other two talk and laugh and generally attempt to pretend that everything was normal and that Dean hadn't, very recently, done an excellent impression of melting plastic. 

* * *

She pushed the library door open with one hand, wiping the tears from her face with the other. It was dimly lit and quiet, and smelled like books and learning but wasn't nearly as comforting as usual. Hermione made her way to her usual seat, hidden deep in the stacks where the first years didn't dare to go. There were only a few others who ever sat back here, and she'd grown to know them fairly well over the years. All but the toughest few would refuse to give up the entire table for her whenever she arrived. Hermione liked that, that they respected her enough to give her the space she wanted. She stubbornly ignored the little voice that insisted it wasn't respect, but fear that meant they left her to her own devices. Fear, or maybe loathing, the voice whispered. Several more tears leaked out before she made it to her haven, slightly surprised to see that there was someone already there. A blonde, scatterbrained, someone.

"Hello Hermione." Luna said, not even glancing up from her books. 

"Hi Luna." Her voice was curt and to the point- Hermione didn't feel like conversation. But since when had Luna ever taken a hint?

"Is it true that someone died in Gryffindor tower tonight?" She sounded completely unconcerned, as if the answer wouldn't affect her either way. Bitterly, Hermione reflected that it probably wouldn't.

"No, thats not true and I don't know where you heard it, but it's a cruel rumour and I'd thank you to not pass it on." The Ravenclaw girl looked up for the first time, blinking owlishly. 

"No-one would believe me anyway. You know that." Coherent, for once, Luna's eyes bored into Hermione's. "Of course, you don't know what it feels like to not be believed, do you? You're used to everyone asking you for advice and doing what you tell them to do." Hermione bit back a snarl. That wasn't fair, and it certainly wasn't true!

"I don't know what you mean Luna, and I'm certain that I don't care." She sniffed, an act of disdain that would have made Lavender proud, and turned her gaze away from the younger girl. Luna stood up, gathering her books together with the efficiency of someone who knows where they're not wanted. Sometimes, anyway. Hermione pretended not to notice, instead opening her notebook and rereading her class notes, all written in impeccably neat script, even spaced across the pages. 

When Luna spoke again, the clarity was gone from her voice and a sneaky glance from the Gryffindor prefect confirmed that the mist had fallen over her features once more.

"Please give my regards to Ronald. I have the article he wanted, about the teapot, if he wants to borrow it." And she was gone, her dangling carrot earrings jingling pleasantly as she moved. But the mention of Ron brought Hermione back to her initial dilemma, freed from Luna's confusing presence. She couldn't help but picture him, standing in front of her and asking if she trusted him. She'd meant what she said to Harry though, and she didn't regret not lying to him. She did regret not saying anything at all, and she winced at the memory. Any kind of confession at all would have been better than silence- she knew better than most just how much silence hurt the youngest Weasley boy. Silence and getting ignored. 

But that just took her full circle- she knew she couldn't lie because she was honestly terrified that Ron could, and would, let this sudden power go to his head. She'd seen flashes of it that evening, she knew, as he'd pushed her aside and dashed for Dean's side. Normally, Ron wouldn't be the one running to help. Normally, he'd be looking to Harry; to her, for help and his sudden new status was changing him.

She blinked suddenly, dropping her notes in shock, colour rising in her cheeks as she realised with no small amount of disgust what her actual problem was. She wasn't so much afraid of Ron changing orRon becoming different. She was afraid that he might realise that he didn't need _her_ as much as she had him convinced he did. Horror flooded her features as she began to comprehend what she'd been doing for the last years- double checking his homework, re-doing his calculations, questioning every decision. All in an effort to make sure that he needed her? She shook her head, trying to deny it, but the little voice was back and stronger than before.

_You've been convincing him- Him and Harry, both- that they're useless without you for a _long _time Hermione. Face it girl, you're more worried about losing him to this than you are about getting lost yourself._

She stood up so fast that her chair fell to the ground with an almighty clatter. She needed to speak to him, now. She needed to apologise, and to make this right somehow. Wincing, she wondered if she'd ever forget the hurt sound in his voice as he'd bid them goodbye earlier. The little voice laughed at her optimism- would she ever forget it? Never mind that- Would he ever even forgive her?

* * *

Harry couldn't believe it- somehow, he'd gotten turned around in the corridors and found himself lost in a way he hadn't been in years. All it had taken was one loose shoelace and he'd tripped, fallen and crashed _through_ a wall. He hadn't been lost in the castle since the twins had given him the Marauder's map, he thought grimly. He'd grown too reliant on the bloody thing, and now he found himself groping through a dark, webby, hallway somewhere between the hospital wing and Merlin-knows-where. He groped in the dark for his wand, muttering a quiet _Lumos _and sighing with some relief as his path lit ahead of him. He'd been quiet badly afraid of the dark for a long time, and he was none too fond of enclosed spaces either. Back the way he'd come, the hallway had sealed itself off and no amount of poking bricks with his wand revealed any kind of an entranceway. 

"Dammit." He cursed, holding his wand high above his head and aiming the light down the corridor, and started taking careful steps forward. He remembered his first year, and falling down that bloody trap door, and the last thing he wanted to do was repeat that particular performance. The only sounds were his feet, shuffling along the stone floor and the occasional muttered curse, and the only light was cast by his own wand. He followed the path for several minutes with no change in scenery before coming to the stairs, leading down into the dark and emitting a faintly musty smell.

"What the hell?" He hadn't thought there were any other secret passages in Hogwarts- this certainly wasn't on any map- but this one seemed to fit the bill. At any rate, it didn't appear like anyone had walked those particular stairs in a very long time. Cautious, for once, he peered into the gloom that lay down the stairwell carefully before putting his foot on the top step. He had a bad feeling about this; a really bad feeling, but no other choice. He was several steps down when the stairs fell out from underneath him and Harry fell, feeling nothing but the rushing air around him until the rock-hard earth broke his fall in a most unpleasant way. He heard what sounded like snapping bone, and he could feel a burning in his legs and his head was pounding, but he couldn't help it- he dropped into unconsciousness as easily as he'd fallen down the stairway, quietly and without a fight.

* * *

Severus Snape was not a happy man. This was generally acknowledged by most of the people who had ever met him, and was particularly apt on this particular evening. He had spent a large portion of said evening grading first year potions and nothing set him on edge like a badly made potion- and that wasn't even to get him started on the whole debacle with the new council, and his life purpose as a double-agent. The mere thought of the council brought a sneer to his lips, and the two Ravenclaw fourth years passing him in the hall paled considerably and almost ran away from him. Usually, this would amuse him somewhat, but this evening Snape couldn't seem to catch a break as, no sooner than the hapless Ravenclaws had disappeared around the corner, did Harry Potter fall out of the ceiling in front of him and crash to the ground, groaning once and then falling unconscious.

To his credit, the newly appointed DADA Professor only blinked once before hauling the boy to his feet with secure magical bonds and rushing off to the Hospital wing.

"Severus! Whatever has happened to the poor boy?" Poppy fussed, as usual, waving her wand in a complicated manner and directing Severus to the closest bed, warning him to be careful in setting the child down. Rolling his eyes, Severus cast a glance around the room, gaze landing on the only other occupied bed and the somewhat identifiable body of Dean Thomas.

"I'm certain that I have no idea what happened to him, Poppy. But what on earth happened to Mr. Thomas?" For once, Severus Snape was actually dumbfounded. 

She didn't answer him of course, busy instead with her newest patient. 

"Severus? Could you fetch the Headmaster for me please?" Her voice was almost a whisper, and by the sound of it, Snape knew that there was something wrong. 

"Of course" He agreed, turning on his heel to leave. 

"And lock the door behind you- I don't want those children getting in here. They don't need to see this." Her face was pale as she turned to gaze at Harry Potter, watching carefully as his broken legs began to knit themselves back together. It wasn't his injuries that worried her though. It was the fact that the ever-present lightening bolt scar on the boy's forehead appeared to have vanished entirely.

* * *

A/N: Questions? Comments? Please! 


	11. Happiness

A/N: Again, I don't own the HP universe. If I did, Fred would still be here. Oh wait, this is fanfic. He _is_ still here. Sweet.

* * *

Harry groaned a little as he woke, squinting through half-open eyes. Why was the dorm room so bright? It was never this bright. Reaching blindly for his glasses, he jolted upright in shock. Where was his bedside locker gone? Where were his glasses? Quite suddenly he was wide awake and glancing around in amazement. The hospital wing? How in the name of Merlin had he ended up here? Frowning, he looked around, noticing Dean lying in the bed next to him. The other boy appeared to be only sleeping, which Harry was glad to notice. There didn't seem to be any lingering evidence that the boy had been on fire recently, which he was also glad about- he'd seen Dean before Pomfrey had gotten her hands on him, and it hadn't been pretty. Apart from the two Gryffindors, the infirmary was empty. Light streamed through the windows, and Harry guessed it was morning, but he couldn't be sure. The last thing he remembered was... was... was what?

Rubbing one hand over his forehead and into his hair, he couldn't quell the feeling that something was different. He'd come to see Dean the night before, he thought.

_But I didn't get as far as the Hospital Wing, I don't think. _And he knew he'd met Ron and Ginny, and that Hermione and Ron had fought and run off and then... _And then I got lost and fell down some bloody stairs. _Grinning, albeit grimly, Harry remembered the dusty stairway and his own clumsiness.

"It's better than a giant snake, that's for sure." He muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and hopping up onto his feet. His legs almost buckled under him, feeling a little weaker than normal, but he steadied himself with one hand and stood straight, noticing the blue and white striped nightshirt he was dressed in. Delightful- he just loved waking up in Hospital issue garb, without his pajama bottoms. He couldn't help but smile though, as he moved over to Dean's bed, peering down over the other boy before reaching out to poke him.

"Oi, Dean! You awake mate?" Dean groaned a little and rolled over onto his side, giving Harry a good look at all the hair his friend was missing from the right side of his head. It made an interesting contrast to the crop of dark curls across the rest of his scalp. Harry poked his friend several more times before giving up with a shrug.

"Guess you're not awake then." He grumbled, glancing blindly around for his glasses and his wand- both of which he located, eventually, sitting on the windowsill behind his own bed. He thrust his glasses onto his face and dropped back onto the bed. For a moment he sat there, idly twirling his wand in his fingers and whistling a tuneless song.

"Bugger this, I'm going back to the Tower." Pomfrey wasn't watching, so it must still be early, right? His logical side told him that it must be at least breakfast time, as the sun had risen enough to light the room completely, but logic didn't seem to matter. Harry felt fine; was fine- he hadn't felt so good since... well, maybe since his first year? So what was keeping him here?

_If Pomfrey had wanted me to stay here, she would have stayed around to make sure I didn't leave._ He argued, glancing around the room once again. There were no pajamas in sight, but a quick flick of his wand had some conjured out of thin air. He slipped them on, wincing a little as the rough material scratched at his overly sensitive skin. Frowning, he realised he had no slippers, but he'd have to grin and bear it as he couldn't remember the incantation for footwear. Or even if there was an incantation for footwear. Soundlessly, he slipped out the door, waving to Dean as he left and wincing every time his bare feet made contact with the cold stone floor.

"Nothing for it- I'm going to have to run." He shivered a little, cursing himself for not paying more attention during class because he didn't know a warming charm either, Harry took off at a jog toward Gryffindor Tower and, hopefully, some clothes.

* * *

"Where's Harry?" Seamus asked, glancing around the Gryffindor table. Ron, he knew, was sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Loony Lovegood and studiously ignoring Hermione. Hermione herself had her head in a book- not unusual in and of itself- but she was quite obviously _not _reading it, as her gaze kept darting between Ron and Ginny, who was sitting with Neville and Seamus and shooting daggers back, and then back to Ron.

"He was gone before us this morning, I think. I didn't see him anyway." Neville didn't sound bothered. "Maybe Ron knows?" Seamus nodded, gazing over at Ron.

"What does he see in that one anyway? She's two sandwiches short of a picnic, at best." Ginny smacked him soundly over the head and Seamus protested loudly, earning himself another smack.

"First of all, he doesn't 'see' anything in her. Secondly, she's my friend and she's brilliant, so stop talking about her like that, yeah?" The Irish boy nodded slowly, warily eyeing her raised palm, fearing another wallop.

"Yes, Ginny, right Ginny, whatever you say Ginny." He said, his tone just a tad too obedient, but she grinned a little anyway, choosing to ignore him.

"Oi! Ron! You seen Harry this morning?" Her brother glanced up from his discussion with the blonde scatterbrain and gave her a confused glance, looking up and down the Gryffindor table with an astonished look on his face. He said a few words to Luna and she nodded eagerly before he stood up and returned his usual table, dropping down beside Neville.

"He's not here then? He was gone before me this morning, bed made and all." His eyes widened a fraction, before he stared up and Neville and Seamus and spoke in a lower tone, "Did either of you see him come in last night?" They shook their heads slowly, faces paling, and Ron stood up suddenly.

"I'll go find him. Not that I'm worried, or anything," He added hurridly, "But with the way things are..." His voice trailed off as his gaze swept the teacher's table. The Headmaster, the Deputy Headmistress and Poppy Pomfrey were all absent and Ron paled just the tiniest bit more. His friends nodded and they all stood together, abandoning their breakfast and almost running out of the great hall. Hermione, left alone at the table, bit her lip anxiously and watched them leave. She seemed to be deep in thought several minutes, before gathering her books and making her way to her first class.

* * *

"There can't be anything really wrong, right? Someone would have said something if he'd managed to get himself killed." Ron was trying for humour but despite their outward gaiety, the rest of the Gryffindors were still tense and uncomfortable and the memory of Dean's accident was all too fresh for them to stop worrying. The four of them walked quickly to Gryffindor Tower, almost jumping through the portrait hole and running up the stairs to the boy's dorm. Harry wasn't there and, upon closer inspection, Ron came to the decision that his bed hadn't been slept in the night before.

"Bollocks." He cursed. How could he have not noticed? Harry was his best mate, and he just disappeared for an entire night and Ron never noticed? What kind of friend did that make him? He'd just been so tired the night before- he'd told everyone that Dean would be alright and he'd fallen into his bed and hadn't woken until he'd heard Seamus and Neville getting up. He should have known something was wrong- if nothing else, Harry hadn't woken him with a nightmare, and that should have screamed _PROBLEM. _He ignored Seamus and Neville's intrigued stares as he rooted through Harry's trunk, throwing socks and books out of it until he finally found what he wanted- an old, wrinkled parchment that looked as if it had seen better days. He muttered the spell under his breath, tapping his wand to the edge of the map, and lay it flat on the floor so that the other three could see it too.

"Woah mate, what he bloody hell is that?" Seamus' voice was filled with wonder, and Neville's face matched it. Ginny, who'd seen it all before, dropped to the floor next to her brother and began searching the map for the tiny dot marked 'Harry Potter'.

"It's a map of the castle- Harry's dad and his friends made it when they were here." She said, her gaze intent on the dots in front of her. "It shows everyone in the castle." It only took a few seconds more for Seamus to spot him- he jabbed excitedly at the HarryDot and exclaimed loudly,

"He's on his way here, according to this!" Ron literally felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he relaxed onto the floor, his eyes fixed on the dot as it moved quickly toward Gryffindor Tower. As it approached, he managed a glance around and realised that half of his friend's belongings were scattered across the room. He started tossing everything back into the chest in a very haphazard manner, not willing to deal with Harry throwing a hissy fit about invasion of privacy or some such rubbish. He shoved the map into his pocket though, intent on not letting it go until he saw his friend again- he'd hand it over to him directly. Given the gleam of interest in Seamus' eye, Ron thought it might be better for Harry to keep it in his pocket for the next few weeks, or else the Marauders Map may find itself a new home.

In the seconds it had taken him to clean up, the other three had descended into the common room, relief rolling off them all in waves as they chatted and laughed. But the initial relief that Ron had felt was gone, replaced by the niggling sensation that something was different, something had changed: something would never be the same again. He walked down the stairs slowly catching sight of Harry from across the common room, laughing and talking with the others. He was telling them that Dean was fine and that he'd gotten lost in the castle. He was smiling widely and didn't seem bothered at all when Neville admitted that they'd only just noticed he was missing. He even made a joke about it. The niggling feeling in Ron's stomach became a clenched fist as he watched his friend. Harry was laughing? And making jokes? And not pitching a fit?

When his best friend finally looked up to meet his curious gaze, Ron almost choked on the words "Harry, mate, what the hell happened?" even as they slipped out of his mouth. He'd noticed, of course, what the others had missed. Blinking, Ron stopped in his tracks and gaped, mouth wide open and his head spinning.

"Harry, your scar! What happened?" Confusion passed over the black-haired boy's face, even as he rubbed a hand to where the scar should be.

"What do you mean? It's the same as always."

"No, Harry, it's not. Look" Ron pushed his friend toward the fireplace or, more specifically, toward the large mirror over the fireplace.

Harry glanced up, confused but willing to trust his friend. His own eyes widened comically when he noticed his reflection. He turned back to Ron, blinking rapidly.

"What the hell?" His voice was quiet, and confused. "Where's it gone?" All the others could do was shrug, confusion written on every face, even as Harry inspected his reflection in the mirror once again.

"I think you need to tell us exactly what happened to you last night Harry, and then you need to go back to the Hospital wing." Ginny spoke strongly and clearly, her voice not reflecting her own confusion, and Harry immediately launched into his story- the hallway and the stairs and his fall. But he couldn't tell them what he didn't know.

"I may have left without seeing anyone this morning- Madam Pomfrey wasn't there, so I just... snuck out." He sounded vaguely guilty, but Seamus grinned at him.

"Good on ya mate! It's about time someone ran from that joint!" Ron pasted a grin onto his face, refusing to look at his sister for fear that she'd say something to him.

"Do you reckon you could find this hallway again Harry?" Ron asked, his voice low so that the others wouldn't hear him, even as he pulled his friend away from them slightly. Harry nodded, confident.

"Yeah, I reckon I can. It's right near the hospital wing- just past that ugly statue of the Gargoyles."

"Right then. I'll bring you back to Madam Pomfrey and you can show me on the way, right? You lot, off to class!" Ginny glared and Seamus muttered complaints, but to his amazement they all trooped off anyway, waving goodbyes.

"Wait!" They were just at the door when he called them back. "Don't mention this to anyone, okay? Not at least until we know what's going on, right Harry?" Harry nodded slowly,

"Sure mate, whatever you say. I'm gonna get changed, all right?" The Boy Who Lived raced up the stairs, whistling again, and the other three all agreed and then left, leaving Ron standing alone in the common room.

He could hear Harry clattering around in the dorm, the noises echoing down the stairwell and into the empty common room. Whatever had happened, whatever it was that had been done to his friend, the Harry that was up there was not the Harry Ron knew.

The fist in his stomach clenched tighter and the red-head winced from the near-physical pain of it. Something really, really bad had happened, he knew.

And Harry began to sing, loudly and off-key, but with an enthusiasm that Ron had never heard before.

* * *

"What do you think this means Albus?" The Deputy Head hadn't slept, and her worry showed in the creased lines on her face, and her robes. The Headmaster's own face was gray in the morning light, and he looked almost afraid.

"For years Minerva, I've kept a secret from everyone because I feared for Harry's safety should it become public knowledge." He looked at her from across his desk.

"Have you ever heard tell of a Horcrux?" She thought about it for a moment, before nodding her head slowly. Minerva, ever sharp, knew that he wasn't just asking her for no reason, despite the fact that his tone was as casual as if he'd been asking about the weather.

"I know of them, Headmaster, but surely you can't mean... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Surely this is too monstrous even for him to attempt!"

"I'm afraid it was not too monstrous, not in the least. Not for Tom- he made more than one, rending his soul into pieces because he fears death." She paled quite considerably, her heart sinking as she realised the true nature of their fight against Voldemort.

"How many? How can we ever expect to defeat him while he has these evil devices?" She wasn't quite hopeless, not yet, but she was as close as she'd ever been, throughly defeated by the events of the last few days and now this new knowledge on top of it all. It was nearly too much for her to deal with.

"I do not know how many, but I suspect seven including, of course, the piece that remains within him. The diary, the Riddle diary that Ginny Weasley had in her first year, that was one and it has been destroyed." He gestured to his own ruined arm and the ring resting on his finger, "The Gaunt ring I destroyed myself but at a cost, as you can see." He paused, letting his words sink in. "There are some people hunting down the rest of them as we speak, but that is not the issue for today. What I fear, Minerva, is that there may now, as we speak, be a piece of Tom's soul in this school, and I do not know how to find it, or even how to discover if my guess is correct." He recounted what little he did know quickly, quietly and with just a hint of apology for having kept the secret for so long. There were, however, many things that he did not mention and she filled in the blanks quickly, realising that Harry's scar had possibly been more than just a _link_ to the Dark Lord.

"What can we do? There must be something that we can-"

"No. This isn't our fight, this time." He smiled sadly. "The responsibility, it seems, falls on far younger shoulders than ours."

* * *

"This is it here." Harry pointed his wand at the wall, and then frowned, "I think." Ron forced a grin, making a note of the wall his friend had indicated and checking his pocket quickly to make sure the map was still there.

"Right then, off to the Hospital with you again then." Harry grumbled good-naturedly, and resumed talking about Quidditch practice for the remainder of their walk. He was building up to a good rant about the fairness of the training roster when Madam Pomfrey ducked her head around a corner and grabbed him by the arm.

"And where exactly did you disappear to, Mr Potter? You can't just walk out of the Hospital Wing any time you see fit, you hear me?" She dragged him along the corridor, muttering angrily about irresponsible students, before directing her glare back at Ron, who'd been following them quietly.

"Don't even think about it, Mr. Weasley. Get back to class and don't let me catch you anywhere near here before the dinnertime!" The look on her face was fierce enough to pierce Griffinskin, so Ron merely nodded, mumbled a 'see you later' to his friend and jogged away. He didn't go very far, just back to the ugly statue and the mysteriously disappearing wall. Carefully, he reached out with one hand, running his fingers over the stone until he felt it- the tiniest of gaps where the wall _wasn't. _Harry had really been incredibly unlucky, he realised, to hit this particular section of wall at just the right angle so that he fell through the gap instead of walloping his head off the wall.

The coincidence jarred him for a second- was it truly an accident? Why would something like this happen to Harry, of all people? He only paused for a second though, before pushing his hand further into the gap and taking a step forward.

His mother had always warned him that if he didn't stop to think about things before he acted, he'd regret it. Ron should have listened to his mother.

* * *

Questions? Comments? Criticism?

* * *


	12. Lost

Onward, we march. Let's all hope I know where I'm going, eh?

I don't own HP, and don't think I ever will. sigh

* * *

He wasn't quite sure what to make of the creepy dark corridor. It wasn't anything worse, or indeed, anything better, than what he'd encountered in any other part of the castle over the years- and Ron knew the castle pretty well at this point. But it was darker, somehow, and there was a feeling of being watched that even the portraits had never inspired. Gulping, the redhead summoned what was left of his fabled Gryffindor courage and lit his wand with a flourish. If in doubt, use bravado- a lesson long since learned from the twins. There was very little that the twins couldn't bluster their way out of, and it was a skill that Ron had admired all his life. He still admired it, watching his brother's build their joke shop, gag by gag, even if it left him feeling a little less useful than usual. Shaking his head furiously to clear all thoughts of the twins, he concentrated on the tiny ring of light cast by his wand, moving forward through the shadow toward whatever it was that had changed Harry. He was only a few steps in when his courage fled, as he heard the wall behind him shift and change, solidifying into pure stone where moments before had been a doorway.

_Crap. I think it's time, Ronald, to admit that this may be one of the stupider ideas you've ever had._ His conscience sounded remarkably like Hermione and that stung a little as he was really rather furious with her right then- he didn't need her berating him inside his head as well as in reality. There was a reason that Harry had led him here- he could feel it in his bones (_in his blood)_, and it was the only thing that kept him from turning tail and fleeing back to the relative safety of Gryffindor tower. The ghost of a grin passed his lips at the memory of the great Harry Potter looking more lively and excited than he had since Ron could remember. Harry was almost never happy- anyone who had ever met him knew that. Oh, he was friendly and decent and a good laugh, but he was never _happy._ The closest Ron could remember his best mate ever coming to happiness were the few brief moments of hope after the truth of Pettigrew's betrayal had come to light, and Sirius had claimed Harry as his ward. Of course, everyone knew how that ended- with a quietly disastrous escapade in the department of mysteries. The scars on his arms tingled a little at that memory and he scratched them, absent-absentminded. Dissection of Harry's newfound cheer could be made later, back in the common room with a butter beer and Hermione doing all the thinking. Ron was under no illusions. He knew he was most definitely not the brains of the operation. Frowning, he realised he wasn't really the brawn either as Harry was the one packing the magical punch. So what in the name of Merlin was his role?

_Comic relief?_ He thought, bitterly.

A shiver of fear ran up his spine as he brushed past what could only have been webbing, his wand light briefly illuminating the sticky, shadowy substance of his mostfeared enemy. The idea almost made him laugh- hundreds of dark wizards would line up to get the chance to knock off Harry Potter's best friend (and some had tried) and Ron's biggest fear was still spiders. He pushed images of the monsters from the forest out of his mind and ventured further, the feeling of certainty solidifying in his stomach. Something was important about this place- something had led Harry to it, something here had taken Harry's scar, and something in here was...

Breathing?

He strained his ears and he could _almost_ hear it, beating in the distance. A drumbeat, maybe? But who would have drums in the recesses of the castle? He shivered again as he realised that a large part of him did not want to know the answer to that question. As he moved forward, the pounding slowly grew stronger, single solid beats echoing around him in the darkness. His shoes scuffed through the dirt as he picked up his pace, wandlight wavering as he started to jog, feet pounding on the floor as he broke into a run, racing through the shadows and the webs as the sound grew louder and louder, beating in his head as he ran, racing along in time with his heartbeat.

Until it stopped, and was gone. And Ron crashed headlong into a wall.

Groaning, he picked himself up from the dusty ground, relieved to see that his outstretched wand had suffered no damage. He'd replaced one wand already in his lifetime, and he had grown really rather attached to this one. The light had dimmed because he'd dropped the wand, and the red-head recast the incantation, the feeling of being watched still pressing on him.

The wall he'd hit was solid, not like the entranceway, as were the walls to either side. Harry had said that he'd fallen _down_, but Ron couldn't see anything to fall down through. He glanced around again and shivered suddenly as, in the distance, the drumbeat started again. It seemed to be leeching through the stone wall to his right and the redhead pressed one ear up against the wall, hoping to hear something more clearly, even as he was running his hands over the wall, trying to find a door.

His own laughter shocked him, a little, as he realised what he was doing.

"Are you a wizard or aren't you, Weasley?" He could only be glad that Hermione wasn't there to see _that_. He'd never hear the end of it. "Alohomora" He was only half- surprised when the wall swung inward, revealing a dimly lit corridor, free from the cobwebs and the dust he'd only begun getting used to.

Taking a deep breath (attempting to swallow his fear, perhaps) he took several steps forward and watched for the second time that evening as a door swung shut behind him and disappeared. There was no sound as the door merged seamlessly into the wall- but the drumbeat was louder, here. He took off again at a jog, feeling the irresistible desire to keep moving; to move _fast_. His wand raised in front of him again, he took notice this time when the corridor ended, and another doorway appeared. He was quick enough to stop this time, without meeting the door with his head. The large mahogeny door was closed tight, and Ron raised his wand to open it with magic when something- a tiny, niggling feeling of _something_- told him not to. Instead, he raised his right hand and knocked three times, unintentionally in time with the drumbeats. The sound faded, it seemed, as the final door swung open. He stepped forward again, cautious and careful for the first time since he'd come into the tunnel in the first place. There was someone, or something, here. Something different to what had been watching him. Something strange and foreign but which really, really reminded him of-

_Hello, Ronald._

His mother? What the hell?

* * *

"Where's Ron got to, then?" Ginny asked, her mouth half-filled with ham and cheese sandwich. The boys around her grinned, knowing better than to comment, and Hermione, who sat not too far away, visibly flinched and bit her lip to keep from scolding her friend.

"Dunno Gin. He never made it to any of his classes- maybe he's still in the hospital wing with Harry?" Hermione jumped at Seamus' words. Harry was in the Hospital wing? What for? She bit her lower lip harder, not surprised when she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood in her mouth. Angry with herself, she knew she deserved that pain and a lot more besides.

"Probably- the git would use any excuse to get out of class. Bet he told Pomfrey that Harry needed him there to hold his hand, or such rot." Ginny laughed a little, sipping her tea in a most unladylike manner. The Gryffindor table fell silent again, most student's keeping their heads down and refusing to meet each other's eyes. The other house tables seemed to be in a similar silence- the Slytherin table perhaps being the exception, but even then it was only a slight bit more lively. At the teacher's table, Lethe Basingstoke was sitting next to Professor Sinistra, doing his best to engage the pretty witch in conversation. Sinistra, obviously unhappy with the situation, was wolfing down her lunch at lightening speed to avoid the same. It made Ginny smile- by all accounts, (well, Ron's anyway) the IWF agent was arrogant and irritating and the professor would be far better off without him. They finished lunch quickly, talking Quidditch and classes and almost being subtle in their avoidance of the topic at the forefront of everyone's minds. Gryffindor house was subdued enough without kicking off another fight- there were matches coming up, and homework assignments that had been ignored for two days. That was enough to get distract even the most dedicated of troublemakers. Ginny felt a pang of what she thought was loneliness, glancing around only to realise that her boyfriend, her brother and one of her best friends were no-where to be seen and that Hermione, the only _girl _friend that she even had in Gryffindor house was studiously ignoring her. The guilt that rose up in her wasn't entirely unexpected, but Ginny did a good job of pushing it back down. She could be ruthless when she wanted to be, and she was adamant that this time, Hermione had to do the apologising. Maybe. She'd heard what the older girl _hadn't_ said to her brother the night before, and she knew only too well how easily offended Ron was. In fact, it might explain why Ron had stayed away from lunch and why she hadn't seen him since that morning. Satisfied with her explanation, she went back to devouring her sandwich and ignoring Hermione, humming a little under her breath.

It wasn't until much, much later that evening that anyone really noticed that Ron had yet to make an appearance. His best friend, after all, was in the hospital wing and his other best friend wasn't talking to him, so who was there to notice that he was missing? His sister had other things to worry about- her boyfriend had very nearly been burned to death, and she was behind in almost all of her classes. So much so that, when dinner came around, Ginny could be seen hidden at the end of the table attempting to finish the essay that McGonagall had set the week before. Something to do with transformation of base metals, or such like. She couldn't even pretend that she really understood, but hope springs eternal, so maybe the professor wouldn't notice that. Neville sat a few seats away from her, fending off all interested parties- it seemed that everyone in Gryffindor wanted to speak to them; to know when the next meeting was; to know what they thought of this, and that, and the other. To know how Dean was, and what had happened to Harry, and what was going on and why this and why everything else and all Ginny wanted to do was finish her bloody essay so she could go visit them herself, in _peace_. She was almost surprised then, that someone managed to slip past Neville and reach her side- he'd been doing a surprisingly good job as a buffer. When she glanced up, it was to see Draco Malfoy, willingly standing at the Gryffindor table. He didn't even look ill, she noticed.

"Yes?" It was an effort to keep her voice civil. Made easier when he returned the gesture with only the slightest hint of sneer.

"Where's your brother? We've been waiting for him for more than an hour." Ginny blinked, and only then did she notice that Simon and Ursula were standing to either side of the Malfoy boy, making an eerie contrast to the usual goons that followed him around.

"He's in the hospital wing, I think, checking on Dean. You heard what happened to Dean, right?" Of course they had. Everyone had- Gryffindors, remember? Brave, but not secretive. But they may not know about Harry, so she'd leave the focus on Dean, for now. Draco's sneer returned.

"He's not there. We checked there after Longbottom sent us away the first time, and now we'd like to know the truth. Please." He glanced behind him, grinning a little at the other two. Ginny saw Ursula make a face behind Draco's back. Usually, this would have amused her, but now? The slowly sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to let her see the humour. She must have paled considerable, because even Draco's smug expression faded.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since..." When had she seen him last? "... before lunchtime." Before lunchtime? She hadn't seen him since breakfast that morning, and now it was almost seven. First Harry, now Ron? They really needed to start keeping better tabs on each other. The feeling in her stomach tightened as she remembered Harry- something weird had happened to Harry too, how could she have forgotten? She gasped as she realised- Ron had _told_ her not to say anything. He'd _told _ her not to talk to anyone, and now she could only struggle to remember. Was this what the magic was doing? Was this the Treaty in force? She was standing before she noticed what was happening, glaring at Draco despite the fact that he, for once, didn't deserve it.

"Before lunch? Where has he been all day? Pomfrey said she hasn't seen him, you haven't seen him, and he missed our bloody meeting! Where is he?" Simon was clever, but he wasn't quiet. He gained rather a lot of attention from the surrounded students, and even Dumbledore cast a glance their way. The feeling in her stomach moved upward, sticking in her throat and _pushing_. She couldn't stop herself from speaking- he'd asked a question, and she had to answer.

"I don't know. I have no idea." Her voice sounded forced and worried to her ears, and she almost retched from the lingering taste of magic in her mouth.

The other three seemed to accept it, taking a step away from her. But Draco turned back, his sneer firmly in place. He knew, she realised, exactly what was happening.

"What happened to Potter anyway? Why did he end up in the Hospital wing?" His eyes bored into hers, but this time Ginny didn't feel the magic burning. Ron had already told her not to say anything, right? So she couldn't help but lie.

"He got hurt, saying something about me." She let some sorrow sneak into her voice. "Like Dean got hurt, just for saying something about Ron." That wasn't strictly true either, but Ginny could almost see the flash of understanding behind his eyes. She may not be able to _not_ talk, but she was still clever enough to threaten him. Yes, Ginny Weasley was beginning to understand exactly what was happening, too.

"Is there a problem here, children?" Basingstoke startled her and she blinked, breaking the staring contest with Malfoy as she turned to face the intrusion.

"No, there isn't. Why do you ask?" Ursula's voice was laced with dislike, but Basingstoke didn't even notice.

"I may have overheard you asking for the young master Weasley." The representative smirked a little "I was due to meet with him earlier and I confess to being a little worried. Wherever could he be?" Ginny frowned. There was definitely something going on that she wasn't understanding. Simon and Ursula exchanged glances and Ginny saw something pass between them that hadn't been there before. Her frown deepened.

"I'm sure he's fine, wherever he is." Malfoy's voice was a slow drawl, unconcerned. "He's probably hiding away somewhere, hoping that everything will sort itself out without him."

Basingstoke grinned again, meeting Malfoy smirk for smirk.

"Or perhaps, he's been sidetracked by more worthwhile pursuits." The smug look dropped from Malfoy's face, and he spun on one heel to face the other two.

"How long did it take for you two?" He snarled, anger suddenly evident in his tone.

"Minutes. Maybe twenty." Ursula offered, and Simon nodded his agreement. Malfoy's anger abated a little and he turned back to Basingstoke.

"I highly doubt that he's been... sidetracked, as you put it. I'd more readily believe that the stupid oaf has gotten lost."

"Really? And you wouldn't know anything about that, would you Malfoy?" Hermione's voice was clear and loud and everyone in the great hall could hear her accusation. Internally, despite her confusion, Ginny groaned. There was no way that confrontation could make this better. Especially not with Malfoy's new... ability? Was ability even the right word?

"I don't know what you're implying, Granger, but I'd prefer it if you'd not." His tone was dry, but now that she knew it was there, Ginny could hear the power behind his words. His voice almost crackled with energy and she wasn't surprised that Hermione didn't respond. Hermione was, and everyone else was, but that was a matter for another time.

"If you'll excuse us, Malfoy, we have to find my brother." He didn't move, so she summoned every ounce of strength she could and looked him in the eye, stating firmly. "You can go now." He'd turned to leave before he even realised what was happening, gathering Simon and Ursula up in his wake. She turned to her friends.

"I think we have a problem." Hermione, almost choking with the effort of trying to speak, almost laughed. "You can speak now!" Ginny added hurridly, hoping that her words would be enough to lift Malfoy's. As her friend found her speech again, a wave of relief washed over her- at least it wasn't permanent. The idea of having to rely on Malfoy to lift it made her ill, and she could only imagine how Hermione felt. Basingstoke was lingering at her side, but Hermione's glare was enough to send him on his way. The rest of their audience remained, staring openly with various degrees of wonder and fear.

"We need to find Ron. Now." Neville whispered.

Their whispered debate was interrupted, unusually, by a House Elf. Most of the Elves preferred to stay out of sight- except Dobby, but this wasn't Dobby- and this one looked wary at being seen by so many wizards and witches at once.

"Mistress Wheezy?" Of course, just because the Elf wasn't Dobby, didn't mean that his grasp of English was any better. He handed her a fold of parchment as she nodded, before disappearing with an inaudible crack. She unfolded the parchment slowly, recognizing immediately the messy scrawl across the page. Why was _Ron_ writing to her? Couldn't he just have come found her? She couldn't help but frown, ignoring everyone as she read through his short note once, twice and three times before she looked up.

"Hermione? I'm going to need those books now." The bushy haired witch glanced up at her, a blush rising on her cheeks.

"Of course. I'll fetch them for you."

"Meet me in the library, will you?" Hermione nodded slowly as she stood from the table, gathering her belongings as she moved. "Neville, will you grab Luna and meet us there too? And Seamus, could you check on Dean and Harry and let everyone know how they're doing?" The Irish boy nodded, passing no remarks on Ginny's bossiness. He'd had years to get used to her, after all. Neville was moving to the Ravenclaw table even as the youngest Weasley raced past him and out of the great hall. There were more than one pair of eyes watching her leave- some intrigued, some entertained and one, more so than any other, indomitably curious. The exodus from the Gryffindor table meant that no-one was there to see one of the watchers gather up Ginny Weasley's dropped letter with a quick flick of their wand and secret it away inside their robes.

* * *

Two days before:

Ron emerged from the darkness quietly, his head swimming. He was standing in the Entrance hall, waiting and watching. Inside the Great Hall, the staff and students were all at breakfast, and there was enough noise and laughter in there to drown out the sound of the front door slowly opening. The redhead retreated into the shadows as the familiar form of Basingstoke came into view, silently threading his way across the floor to the great hall. Ron, from his position, could hear the man muttering under his breath, but couldn't quite make out the words.

When the IWF agent disappeared, Ron settled in to wait for a moment. It wouldn't be long, he knew, before the man returned, accompanied by the Headmaster and McGonagall. Indeed, it seemed only seconds before the trio emerged- Basingstoke corralled by Dumbledore to his left and the Deputy Headmistress to his right.

"It is unfortunate that you are both so... unhappy, let's say, at my arrival. This is a great time we live in- a time of great change; great excitement-"

"I think I speak for most of the wizarding world when I say that I would much prefer to be bored." McGonagall's voice was cold as ice and Ron inwardly cheered. Their visitor didn't speak again, merely made a face at the perceived slight. They crossed the great hall quickly, disappearing in the direction of the Headmaster's office. Ron took his opportunity and ran for the front door, pushing it open quietly before slipping outside into the chilly sunshine. He tried to appear as casual as possible as he crossed the grounds, hoping that any casual observer would not think it strange that a student was wandering alone, in the direction of the forbidden forest, before classes had even started. He would have no excuse for being out here, should he be caught, so he really must reach the forest edge without being seen.

Not for the first time, Ron wished he owned an invisibility cloak- or, failing that, that he knew the disillusionment charm. But he didn't have either, so he should really hurry. It was with intense relief that he reached the edge of the forest, barely suppressing a shudder of horror as he remembered his last trip to the forest- the Thestrals, Grawp and everything he'd heard about the centaurs. It had not been pleasant. And the time before that? As far as he could remember, that had been the time with the giant spiders. He shuddered again. The forest was forbidden for a reason, and a very good reason at that. And why was he here this time? The Thestrals, the spiders, _and_ the centaurs. No Grawp, thank Merlin. He wasn't sure he could handle the others, without adding Hagrid's giant brother to the picture. Glancing back to the castle just once, Ron turned to face the trees and picked the course that he knew would, unerringly, bring him to the centaurs. He'd feel better starting with the ones who might- if they decided to trust him- help save him from the spiders, later. The arachnophobe barely bit back a yelp at the thought of the bloody spiders. Centaurs- the slightly insane, highly xenophobic, marginally psychic- half men, were less frightening all of a sudden.

Legendary Gryffindor courage, after all. Legendary, his arse. Someone, someday, should decipher the difference between bravery and bravado and explain it to the sorting hat- this was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that Ron Weasley fervently wished he'd been sorted in Hufflepuff. First step, he decided, was the centaurs. After all, if they'd help him then he'd have protection against the spiders and he wouldn't be able to even _find_ the Thestrals without them, as he'd never seen anyone die. Not in person, anyway. And if he could sort all that out before it got too out of hand then they stood a chance. He glanced sideways toward the trees, shivering as the gloom in the forest deepened. He could almost feel the eyes watching him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember that this time, he didn't need to be afraid- he already knew the outcome, didn't he? Frowning, the boy considered the implications- if he already knew what was going to happen, what did it matter that he did it in the first place? If he'd done it in the past, did that mean he had to do it again? His head began to pound, thumping angrily against the inside of his skull. How had Hermione managed this for an entire year? His brain was already all twisty and he'd only just started.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that the youngest Weasley boy didn't even notice when he passed Hagrid's centaur warning signs. He'd entered Centaur territory, and they weren't a race well known for their tolerance.

* * *

"Ginny? What's going on?" Neville was flushed and out of breath, holding himself up on a table in the library. Luna, behind him, was pink-cheeked but smiling. Ginny gestured to the seat beside her and told her friends to sit.

"I got a letter from Ron." Neville frowned.

"A _letter?" _His voice was tinged with uncertainty. "Why would Ron write to you? You live in the same Tower." Luna pulled out a chair from the table, making a loud scraping sound that elicited a pained glare from Madam Pince. The blonde girl didn't appear to have noticed, simply settling herself down on the wooden chair with an airy smile across her features.

"That's what I thought- he sent a note to say to meet him here, to get the books and to say that he's sorry about the fight with Harry." Ginny made a face. "I haven't _had_ a fight with Harry- that's what's got me confused. Unless he means he had a fight with Harry? It would explain why he's run off, I suppose." She frowned again, and shook her head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. "I don't know- either way, there's something going on, and we'll find out the truth of it soon enough." Neville sat down, hard, on his chair and sighed. The last couple of days had been very long and very tiring, and he was beginning to understand why his Uncle Archie had always praised the idea of having a quiet, uninteresting, life. The Weasley family, and being associated with them, was proving itself quite difficult.

"It's not the truth that we should be worried about, you know. The truth can take care of itself- it's the lies and the untruth that we need to keep our eyes on." Luna's normally misty voice was unusually serious and Ginny blanched a little. What was the dozy girl talking about this time? Ginny might have been her friend and may like her a lot, but sometimes she talked a lot of rubbish.

"What does that mean, Luna? What untruth should we be looking out for?" Neville sounded genuinely interested. _Bless. _Ginny knew a crush when she saw one- poor Neville. Everyone knew that Luna had it bad for a certain _other_ Gryffindor.

"There are nasty dark things in the castle, and they're coming out to play today." She grinned brightly. "But no fear, Rons are going to deal with them." Ginny blinked. Luna was normally a little odd, but that was the first time she'd ever spoken about someone in a _plural_. Her eyes narrowed as she caught the glint in the other girls' eye and, not for the first time, the Weasley girl wondered just how much her friend knew that she never let on. She was about to say something, to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue, when Hermione came racing into the library holding the IWF tomes close to her chest.

"Sorry it took me so long- the stairs have all moved around again." She was breathless and panting and Ginny took some nastily grim satisfaction in seeing that the other girl was sweating from her exertion.

"Thanks." The four books, all bound in aged and shabby leather coverings, fell to the table with a thump and Ginny winced. Madam Pince was sure to investigate. Or would she? Three members of the new council, together at once? She might not dare.

Hermione panted a little louder, trying to catch her breath and the librarian coughed pointedly from across the room. Ginny couldn't help but grin a little- the old bat might not interfere, but she wasn't happy in the least.

"Okay, you've read these, yeah?" Hermione nodded, eager to help. "So what's in there then? What's so important to Ron that he couldn't wait to fetch them himself?" Hermione could only blink.

"Not much, really. Or not much that means much to me." She flipped open the smallest of the three, turning to the index. "This one is a brief history of Hogwarts', but it seems to be preoccupied with fairy tales and the castle myths- although, there is one interest..." Her words trailed off as Ginny made a flapping motion, indicating that she should move on. A tiny part of Hermione was upset, but she crushed the pain with the knowledge that if she and Ginny could get on now, that Ron might not _never_ speak to her again. "Right, well. This one..." She picked up the blue-bound book, flicking to a page she remembered "... is a description of the magic used to infuse the castle and bind the magical world to the Treaty. It is said that it took the cooperation of many..." Again, Ginny waved her on and Hermione couldn't stop the frown that crossed her face. "And these two are about the laws and processes of the IWF, and what the council represents and what their responsibilities are." She tapped the larger of the two with one finger. "This one is particularly informative, I think." And then she sat, slightly sulking and waiting for Ginny to respond. It wasn't Ginny who spoke though, it was Luna, and the airy quality was back in her voice.

"Those aren't the same ones that Simon was given- I know, because he showed me. He has knowledge about magical creatures and wondrous spells and forgotten magic." Luna sighed, sounding wistful. "I wonder what Draco and Ursula were given."

Hermione frowned, deep in thought.

"I think there are ways to find out." She announced, meeting Ginny's eyes. "How do you feel about a spot of breaking and entering?" The redhead grinned.

"I can handle that. Lead the way."

* * *


End file.
